Blind Faith
by elvenrarehunter
Summary: What happens when Riley's sister gets caught up in the hunt? Who can she trust when her world is turned upside down after the Charlotte incident? And what happens when she finds out that there's more to the treasure than meets the eye? Please R&R No Flame
1. Prologue

_This is being written in response to a challenge on my National Treasure forum. This first chapter just gives a little introduction into the character being introduced. And establishes a few points. Hope you like._

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**Prologue**

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Ian used the oddly colored key on his keyring to get into Riley's apartment. Riley had given him a spare key in case he needed anything pertaining to the hunt while they were out. Of course, Riley wanted him to return it as soon as he got back. The little runt didn't trust him. Ian sighed and took a swig of his soda before setting off to find the den, which was a miracle, as everything was covered with papers.

Ian walked into the room, setting his soda can down next to Riley's laptop. He looked over it before kneeling down and shuffling through some papers underneath the table. He kept a close listen on the door. It wasn't like he was here illegally, but some of the neighbors didn't like the way he looked. Too much like a convict they said. He smiled at the irony. If only they knew.

About twenty minutes later, Ian heard the distinct click of the lock in the door. This was after he had gone through about twenty stacks of papers and still hadn't found what he was looking for. At least the room was a bit cleaner. He slowly got up off his knees and brushed off a few loose papers that clung to his jeans. He ran a hand through his hair before going towards the door.

"Riley?" came two voices at once. One of them was a female. Ian was a bit shocked as he came face to face with a woman who was slightly shorter than him. She had messy chocolate brown hair and, though he couldn't get a good look, he thought she had ice blue eyes. She held in her hand a small gun and it was pointed in Ian's general direction, shaky as her grip was. Ian put his arms up in a placating matter.

"Who are you?" she asked, obviously not confident in her ability to fire a gun.

"I'm a friend of Riley's," he said. "And just who might you be?"

"That's none of your concern." She fumbled with one hand for the phone, which she knocked over, on the other side of the counter. She swore under her breath. Ian realized that in order to pick it up, she would have to cross in front of him, which she was obviously reluctant about doing. He took a step forward and slowly knelt down to pick up the phone, his eyes on the gun at all times. He hit a creaky floorboard. She twitched and her finger tensed on the trigger. "Stay where you are!" she commanded. He didn't move a muscle. "Where's the phone?" she snapped. Ian breathed slowly, trying not to get nervous.

"It's here, I have it in my hand," he said slowly, trying not to alarm her.

"Put it on the counter," she commanded. He stood up slowly and placed it on the counter, backing up to his original position. She groped for the phone once more and searched the buttons. She punched in a few numbers and put it on speaker phone.

"_Hey, you've reached me, Riley Poole…or tried to and failed miserably. I am not avai-_" came his messaging system, but the girl hit the button on the phone.

"You stay right there. If you move I will shoot you," she said. She sounded nervous. Ian knew she wouldn't have it in her to shoot him, but he wasn't going to test her. Or that wasn't what he planned. The minutes ticked by and Ian sat wondering where the hell Riley was. As if on cue, the door opened and both the gun and Ian's attention went to the door.

"Hey WHOA! Dude! Gun in my face," he said. The girl let the gun down.

"Riley," she said. "There's someone here, he says he's a friend of yours." She looked in Ian's general direction.

"Can I move?" he asked. She nodded. He moved into Riley's line of vision. Riley smiled.

"Yeah, he's cool," Riley said. The girl looked irritated.

"Well how am I supposed to know? I don't recognize him," she said. Riley smiled wider, as if sharing a private joke.

"He's here to pick up some stuff," Riley said. "Did you find what you were looking for."

"No," Ian said. "Come help me look for it. In your mess of an apartment, I can't find a bloody thing." With that Ian yanked Riley, who let out a yelp of surprise and he allowed himself to be led to the den area. Ian let go of him.

"What are we looking for?" Riley asked.

"The papers that you just got the other day," he replied. He sat down on the sofa and watched as Riley shuffled through papers. "So who is she? Your overprotective girlfriend?" Riley shivered at the thought.

"Ian, she's my sister," he replied.

"Ah," Ian said, as if that explained everything. He sat in silence for a moment or two before he spoke again. "So why didn't she recognize me? I mean I practically live with you and Ben." Riley shrugged.

"You're quiet," he replied.

"What does how much I talk have to do with anything?" Ian asked. Riley looked at him, holding the packet of papers in his folded arms.

"Ian, have you missed every clue I dropped? If so you're not much of a treasure hunter," Riley said. Ian chose to let that roll off. After all, if that girl had a gun, who knew if Riley had one too. Riley shook his head, as he loved getting under Ian's skin. "Rylah's blind."

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_Please Review. Constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated. No flames please._


	2. Where Do I Sit?

_Wheee! Reviews! LOL. Well here's the second chapter. I know its a little slow moving, but hopefully it will get better. LOL. Shout out and cookies to **tigerlily2391**, **TheSongOfNature**, and**Crazy Little Emily**! You guys rock. Shameless plugging here: Silence is Golden is another one of my stories I would like reviews for. winkwink._

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter._

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**Chapter 1: Where Do I Sit?**

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About two years and a whole mess of papers later, Ian had gathered a crew and they had obtained plane tickets to go with a bush pilot to the Arctic Circle. The gang had loaded their supplies into the two arctic terrain vehicles they had rented (courtesy of Ian) and were about to set off. There was just one problem, however. They were short a seat. 

Riley did his best to maneuver everything in the back, then gave up because whatever he did fell back into its original place. Ben and Ian tried their hand at fixing up a spot, but they too failed miserably. They hopped out of the vehicle and walked over to Riley and Rylah. Ian folded his arms.

"Looks like one of us is sitting on the floor," Ben said, looking around at the four of them.

"Ridiculous," Rylah said. "Nobody needs to sit on the floor."

"Well, unless someone is sitting on someone else's lap, I don't see how else it will work," Ian said. Rylah's face turned a bright red. She didn't mean it like that.

"I'll just stay here with the bush pilots until you guys get back," she said.

"No way," Riley said. "Ian will sit on the floor." Ian glared at Riley, knowing full well that Rylah couldn't see him doing it.

"No, the floor will get wet. Really, I'll be fine here," she said. Riley shook his head and climbed into the back of the vehicle. Ben walked over to the other side and climbed in the driver's seat. Rylah turned to head back into town, but Ian grabbed her around the waist. She struggled for a moment, before realizing that Ian was probably about six foot as compared to her five foot seven inches (asthe top of her head was somewhere in hischest)and regardless of how much he weighed, she weighed a lot less. "Let go of me."

"We're not leaving you here," he said, turning her towards the vehicle. Rylah was disoriented. She had some idea of where she was before, but now she didn't know which direction went where. "You have just as much claim to this as Ben or Riley or I." He removed his arms from her waist and climbed onto the vehicle's wheels. Next thing Rylah knew, she was lifted off her feet and placed standing on the tire treads of the great machine. She glared in Ian's general direction before he laughed and climbed into the cab. Rylah felt around for the entrance to the cab. She climbed in, with some unwanted assistance from who she could only guess to be Ian. She stood there for a moment, wondering what she was supposed to do next.

Suddenly without warning, she was pushed downward. She thought maybe she had slipped, but she was steady. She fell against the seat. The vehicle started into motion and she heard someone sit behind her.

The journey into what she could only imagine to be a frozen wasteland was not very eventful after that. There was the comforting beeping of Riley's tracking device. It wasn't until about fifteen minutes after their departure that anyone even began to speak.

"Somebody say something," Rylah said, fidgeting.

"There's no use talking for the sake of talking," Ian said.

"It's not talking to hear yourself talk. I can't see you. I need to know that you guys haven't bailed out and left me in this thing that's running rampant in the Arctic," she said. Riley smiled and shook his head. His sister was better at telling Ian off than he was. That could have something to do with the fact that she couldn't see how menacing he looked. He reminded Riley of a convict…coincidentally that's what the neighbor's thought too. Ben spoke, breaking Riley out of his thoughts.

"I was thinking about Hanson and Perry, crossing this terrain with nothing more than dogsleds and on foot. Can you imagine?" Ben asked, driving cautiously over the snow-covered terrain. Ian shook his head and looked at Ben through his reflection in the rearview mirror.

"It's extraordinary," he said. Rylah drummed her fingers against the dashboard.

"Are we there yet?" she asked.

"Well, assuming Ben's theory is correct and my tracking model's accurate, we should be getting very close. But don't go by me," he continued, receiving a quizzical stare from Ian. "I broke a shoelace this morning." Ian shook his head. He didn't really want an explanation.

"It's a bad omen," Rylah explained. "He's very superstitious."

"Should we turn around and go home?" Ian asked, mischievous malevolence in his words.

"Or we could pull over and just throw him out here," Ben said, motioning with a finger to the barren landscape. This aroused a good-natured laugh from Ian. Riley laughed sarcastically with them, once again becoming the butt of the joke.

"OK," he said, done with their teasing.

"That's not funny," Rylah said, obviously oblivious to the fact that Ben wasn't serious.

"I'm only kidding," Ben said. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw Riley's posture go from straight to slouching. "Riley, you're not missing that little windowless cubicle we found you in, are you?" Ben asked, making eye contact with Riley in the mirror.

"No, no. Absolutely not," Riley said, laughter coming through in his speech. Him? Missing his old job? Not a chance. He was having a grand adventure. Riley's laptop beeped. Ben turned to face Riley and Ian leaned his head back to get a look at the screen.

"We're here," Riley said, yanking the laptop away from Ian's vision. Ian said something that sounded remarkably like "childish" but Riley chose to ignore him. Ben slowed the machine down to a halt, the other truck with Shippen, Powell, Shaw, and Phil coming to a halt next to them. Ben was the first to emerge from his truck, followed by Ian, who had wormed his way around Rylah's seat. The doors on the other machine opened and Shaw stood up, leaning out the door. Powell was not too far behind him.

"Why're we stopping? I thought we were looking for a ship," Shaw asked, a little impatient with this little escapade. He hated the cold.

"I don't see any ship," Powell said, also slightly irritated.

"She's out there," Ben said, gazing over the landscape. His voice was full of confidence and certainty that they would find it. Ben jumped out of the vehicle. Ian climbed over Rylah's legs and jumped down as well. He laid a hand on her arm, causing her to recoil and turn her head in his general direction. Ian rolled his eyes.

"I'm helping you down," he said. She seemed to debate this.

"How deep's the snow?" she asked. Ian shrugged.

"Four, five inches," he said. She reluctantly turned her feet. Riley, feeling mischievous, crept up behind her. As she stood up to get out, he gently nudged her, causing her to fall forward. She reached out and fell on top of Ian, bringing him into the snow with her. She took a moment to recover before she was sitting on top of Ian. Riley was shocked. He didn't think he pushed her that hard. Rylah got up cautiously. Ian propped himself up and got to his feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned she had hurt him. Riley jumped down.

"Sorry," Riley said. He stepped between Rylah and Ian. "Are you okay? Sorry, I didn't think I nudged you that hard. It was all in good-" he began, but a snowball to the back of the head cut him off. He looked around as if wondering where it had come from. Ian grinned devilishly. He'd wanted to do that for some time now. He laughed at the expression on Riley's face. Riley opened his mouth to say something, but Ben called back to him.

"Riley, do something constructive with yourself," he said. Riley turned and stuck his tongue out at Ian. Ian smirked in response as Riley walked off with a metal detector. Ian reached into the back of the vehicle and grabbed the only metal detector left in there. He jumped down and was quite shocked to see Rylah standing there. She held out her hand and took the metal detector from him. She placed it to the snow and began swinging it in an arc motion. Ian followed her.

"You sure you don't want me to do that?" he asked. She stopped and made herself try to look menacing, which for a girl who was less than chin height on him she did pretty well.

"I'm blind, that doesn't mean I'm handicapped," she said. Ian rolled his eyes.

"Watch that hole there," he said, pushing her about six inches away from him. She felt around with her foot and discovered that there actually was a hole and that he actually wasn't being the jerk she thought he was.

"Hey, Ian," she said. He made a noise of acknowledgement. "Thanks. You know I feel kind of bad for taking your seat back there. You didn't have to do that for me." He smiled in a debonair fashion, even though she was immune to at least one aspect of his charms.

"If it makes you feel any better, you can sit on my lap on the way back," he said. She made a face as her whole face went scarlet.

"I don't feel that badly about it," she said, earning a chuckle from Ian as he ruffled her hair. Suddenly, Ben began shouting. He walked with Rylah, who carried her head proudly even though she had just been bested. They came up next to Ben, who brushed off the last of the snow obscuring the a bell with the word CHARLOTTE written on it. Ben smiled.

"Hello, Beautiful," he said.

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_Yey, done with that chapter. Next chapter is one of the best scenes in the entire movie IMHO. Please lemme know what you think. Constructive criticism welcomed but no flames plz._


	3. An Accident

_Well, here's the second/third chapter of Blind Faith. This one's a bit longer than the last one (about 1,000 words longer). I've got the next two chapters planned out, so they should be getting written up soon. _

_Shoutouts to _**tigerlily239 **_(hope this chapter answers your question about her loyalties)_,** Crazy Little Emily** _(glad you like it), and_ **TheSongOfNature** _(hope you enjoy this chapter)._

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**Chapter 2: An Accident**

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After about an hour of work, the men had managed to uncover the boat. A whoop of triumph from Riley told Rylah that they were all finished. Riley bounced over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, nearly causing her to fall in the snow again. 

"Must you do that?" she asked, feigning annoyance. Riley smiled and ruffled her hair.

"Of course, it's my job," he said.

"I thought it was the older sibling's job to annoy the younger one," she said. He put an arm over her shoulder.

"You're only four minutes older," he said. She leaned against his shoulder.

"So it's time to go into the creepy pirate ship?" she asked. He laughed.

"Creepy pirate ship? This was a cargo vessel," he said. She shrugged.

"Whatever. Lead the way. And _don't_ push me this time or I'll sick Ian on you," she said. It was Riley's turn to laugh. She started forward, leaving his side. "You think I'm joking. Just test me." Riley abruptly stopped laughing. Was she _actually _serious?

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The air was stale and close within the confines of the ship. The group headed down carefully. Rylah was the last to go down, Riley helping her from one side while Ian supported her from the other. Riley had to give Ian props. If nothing else, he was very chivalrous around the ladies. Rylah jumped down from the last stair and landed softly. She held her hand out in front of her, testing the surrounding area. She latched onto the ropes of one of the hammocks that the others were in between. She fingered all the way down, testing the course fabric of one of the blankets in her fingers. 

"What's this?" she asked, coming to a very hard something. She pulled the blanket back and felt. It was hard and smooth. She felt her way down. It had two round holes equally spaced and perfectly aligned.

"Whatcha got th-HOLY LORD!" Riley jumped back, making noise of shock, fear, and disgust all at the same time. Rylah, startled by the sudden noise, withdrew her hand. She was confused. Ben's voice floated through the stale air.

"Well, you handled that well," he said. Ian and Shaw laughed. Ben walked towards a crudely crafted door, which was barred by a latch frozen in place by the merciless ice. Ben fingered the handle. "This is it," he said. Rylah began to walk over, her hand guiding her.

Suddenly, a weak floorboard gave out from underneath her. She screamed, surprised, though she only fell a few feet.

"Shaw!" Ian said, as he was the closest to her. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt like Rylah was in his charge and that he needed to protect her. Shaw was already springing into action before Ian had time to get his name out. With a little bit of difficulty, as Rylah was struggling, Shaw managed to get her up and out of the floor. She stood, shaking, with her face buried in Shaw's coat. Shaw looked at Ian, who was on his way over. Ian coaxed her away from Shaw and he placed his arm around her in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Riley, too had joined Ian.

"Rye, you ok?" he asked. She forcefully shook her head.

"I wanna go back outside. I don't want to be here. I'm scared," she said. She chastised herself for being so foolish. She had been like this ever since she was a child. She was always jumpy and she often referred to herself as Rylah the Coward. She didn't have the courage to face anything.

"Shhhh…" Ian said. "It's alright. You're safe."

"I'll take her up," Riley said. Rylah searched for his outstretched hand and she allowed herself to be led up and out of the cargo hold. Powell and Victor were waiting outside. He walked her quickly past them. He didn't want her to be any more frustrated by them asking dumb questions. He helped her into the all terrain vehicle and sat with her.

"I'm sorry for being such a coward," she said.

"You're not a coward. Did you hear me squealing like a girl at the sight of that skeleton?" he asked, trying to make her feel better. She smiled.

"You always squeal like a girl," she said. Riley made a noise of protest. "I didn't mean to spoil your treasure hunting expedition."

"You're not spoiling it," he lied. She smiled.

"You always were a bad liar," she said. Riley pouted. She could always call his bluffs. He pulled his coat closer around him. There was an awkward silence for a moment before she spoke again. "Go."

"Where?" he asked.

"Back to the ship. I know it's nearly killing you to be out here instead of in there." Riley started to protest but she continued speaking as if he hadn't interrupted. "I know you want to be there when they find all the treasure." Riley shook his head.

"I don't want to leave you here alone," he said.

"I'm not alone. I've got Powell and Victor to keep me company. Though I still can't keep them straight." She laughed. "But seriously. Just go. I'll be fine." Riley placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll be back to tell you all about it," he said. He was just about out the door.

"And Riley?"

"Mm?"

"Try not to get eaten by an ice monster or something."

"Ha ha, very funny," he said, walking out of the vehicle.

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Riley walked down and found the door that had been frozen shut was now open. He walked down into the hold and walked towards an inconspicuous spot in the hold where he could see, as Shaw and Ian seemed to be breathing down Ben's neck. 

"The legend writ…the stain affected…the key in silence…undetected…fifty-five in iron pen…Mr. Matlock can't offend," Ben muttered under his breath. He spouted out a few theories as he Ian examined a very expensive looking pipe. Riley kind of tuned everything out until Ian spoke.

"What do you mean invisible?" he asked. Riley looked at Ben, confused.

"What's invisible?"

"Well, the stain affected refers to a dye or a reagent used to bring about a certain result, combined with the key in silence undetected," he explained.

"So you're telling us that there's an invisible map somewhere?" Ian asked, just to clarify.

"That's what I don't get. It's got to have something to do with the fifty-five in iron pen…" he started, his train of thought trailing off. "It could be-"

"Prison," Shaw said. Everyone looked at him. Riley gave him a questioning glance.

"Albuquerque! See I can do it too. Snorkel!" he said, causing Shaw to look at him with the utmost annoyance. Riley knew that somehow, he would never be able to get on Shaw's good side.

"It's where the map is. Like you said, fifty-five in iron pen. Iron pen is a prison," he said. Riley zoned out again on Ben's history speech. He'd heard it a dozen times before. Shaw watched Ben carefully, like a cat waiting to corner his prey. Riley wasn't paying too much attention to Shaw's movements, though. He had strategically placed himself with has back to a pole next to Ian. Riley's thoughts returned to the real world when Ben finished his speech. "The Declaration of Independence."

"Whoa, wait. There is no invisible map on the back of the Declaration of Independence," Riley said. Ian looked at Shaw.

"We'll have to find a way to examine it," he said. Ben shook his head.

"This is one of the most important documents in history. They're not going to let us just waltz in there and run chemical tests on the back of the Declaration of Independence!" Ben said, frustrated at Ian's shallowness. Ben was frustrated with the fact that Ian thought that money could buy him everything.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Ian challenged, raising his voice.

"I don't know," Ben snapped. He felt that it was right for him to come straight out and say it. There was a few tense seconds of silence before Ian smiled mischievously.

"We could borrow it," he said. Ben looked at him incredulously.

"Steal it? I don't think so," Ben said. His tone final. Ian's expression changed to something else.

"Ben, the treasure of the knights Templar is _the_ treasure of all treasurues," Ian said. Ben rolled his eyes.

"No, I didn't know that, really?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. Ian ignored him and continued on, annoyance creeping its way into his voice.

"Ben, I understand your bitterness, I really do. You've spent your entire life searching for this treasure only to have the historical community treat your family with mockery and contempt. You should be able to rub this treasure in their arrogant faces, and I want you to have the chance to do that," Ian said, sounding very sincere for the most part. But Riley knew better. Ian was quick witted and had a way with words and could convince almost anyone to do almost anything. Ben looked at him quizzically.

"How?" Ian shifted.

"We all have our areas of expertise. You don't think mine are limited to writing checks, do you? In another life, I've arranged a number of operations of questionable legality," he said. Shaw moved fully between Ben and the door.

"I'd take his word for it," he said. Ian looked at Ben.

"Don't worry, I'll make all the arrangements," he said. Ben was suddenly coming to grips with the fact that this wasn't right.

"No."

"Ben, I really need your help here," Ian said, trying to regain the control he had over the situation. He stood up, creating a human roadblock towards the door.

"Ian," Ben said. "I'm not going to let you steal the Declaration of Independence!" he snapped. Ian shook his head, obviously giving up on tact.

"Alright, from this point on, all you're going to be is a hindrance," he said. With these words, Shaw whipped a gun from a belt holster, leveling it with Ben's heart.

"Hey!" Riley said. This was suddenly becoming a lot more serious. He had to get back to his sister before Ian got to her too. Ben looked straight at Shaw.

"What are you going to do? You gonna shoot me, Shaw?" he asked. Shaw smirked and Riley felt that it was in Ben's best interest not to test him. "Well you can't shoot me. There's more to the riddle. Information you don't have, I do. I am the only one who can figure it out and you know it," he explained, throwing that last bit at Ian. Shaw shook his head.

"He's bluffing." Ian seemed to be considering that Ben could be very useful, but he knew he would never go through with it. Ben looked at Ian.

"We played poker together Ian, you know I can't bluff," Ben said.

"Tell me what I need to know, Ben," Ian said. "Or I'll shoot your friend." Shaw deftly pointed the gun at Riley, who made a noise in protest. "Quiet Riley! You're job's finished here." So he was going to die right here in this hold. It almost made his sister's comment seem ironic. Suddenly there was the sound of something being ignited. All attention focused on Ben, who had pulled a flare out of his jacket and struck it on one of the barrels.

"Look where you're standing, all that gunpowder. You shoot me, I drop this, we all go up," Ben said.

"Ben," Riley warned. Ian smirked.

"What happens when the flare burns down?" Ian asked. Ben didn't seem to have considered that aspect. "Tell me what I need to know." Ben looked around.

"You need to know…if Shaw can catch!" he said, hoping Shaw would drop the gun in an attempt to make sure the flare didn't hit the ground. He was sadly mistaken. Shaw stood stock still, the gun still level with Ben's heart, as Ian reached down and deftly caught the flare. He pointed it at Ben.

"Nice try though-" he started, but the flare caught his glove on fire. He dropped the flare in surprise. The gunpowder ignited, causing a wall of fire to spring between them. He and Shaw rushed away from the powder keg, locking the door on their way out.

* * *

Rylah heard shouting and was immediately alarmed. Something had gone wrong. She couldn't tell whose voice it was. She heard someone jump into the seat next to her and she felt someone at her side, bracing themselves against the door. The vehicle started into quick motion. 

"What's going on?" she asked. There was only the roar of machines to answer her, at least until…

**BOOM!**

She covered her ears. The smell of fire and smoke reached her and she became more anxious.

"Let's go," she heard Ian say from beside her. "Before someone sees the smoke."

"What happened?" she demanded, as the vehicle started again. Ian sat down on the edge of her seat. Ian took a moment to think of a story.

"Ben lit a flare and dropped it in the gunpowder," Ian explained. "There was nothing we could do for him or your brother." Rylah's eyes welled up with tears.

"No…" she whispered. Ian pulled her close.

"I'm sorry." With that, the vehicles disappeared out of sight of the smoking ship.

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_Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism welcomed, but no flames please. Reviewers get COOKIES! lol. _

_ERH_


	4. Best Laid Plans

_Don't kill me... my computer was mean and didn't want to let me update this. Chapter 4 is well underway. This took a little while to write because of massive writer's block on the second half. I hope you all enjoy._

_Shout outs to _**Crazy** **Little** **Emily**, **tigerlily2391**, shariena, **TheSongOfNature**, _and _**Isayssoccer**!_ You guys are amazing!_

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**Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans**

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Rylah crept down the stairs in the house that they had rented in D.C. for their stay. She listened to their incoherent talk. She could only catch a few words and phrases, but none of them made any sense to her. She sat down on the steps and she heard Ian's voice distinctly rise above the rest. 

"That's beside the point. We need some way to get in. Do we have the resources?" he asked. Rylah was curious.

"Get in to what?" she asked, emerging from her spot into their line of view. They looked at each other, but said nothing. Ian walked over and placed his arms over her shoulders.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, but there we were going to get into the Gala at the National Archives and bring you with us," he said, trying to sound as charming and believable as possible, much as he despised lying to her. He didn't want her in on any of their plans. She didn't have a criminal record and he wasn't going to start her on one. The men murmured in agreement. Rylah's face lit up.

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Now go get ready, we're going to go buy you a dress." She turned and hugged Ian, grinning. She then began a hurried ascent up the stairs. She'd always wanted to go to a big party like the Gala.

Meanwhile, the men disapproved of Ian's grand scheme, Powell most actively voicing his opposition.

"Ian, it's going to put you in the most danger. You're the one that's going with her. None of us will be able to help you if you get in trouble," he said.

"I'm not going to stay there the entire time. Look, I've timed the whole thing out. It shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes. I'll excuse myself, get down there, nab the Declaration, and I'll go back. Rylah will be none the wiser," Ian explained coolly as he sat back down. Powell folded his arms, putting his cards from the game of poker they were playing while they discussed their course of action on the table. Shaw shook his head.

"If Ian says it will work, it will work," he said.

"Arrange for the money to be donated in the name of the Poole Family," he said. Before Powell could argue, Rylah bounded down the stairs.

"I'm ready," she said. Ian got up once again, Shaw following him. Ian placed a hand on Shaw's shoulder and escorted Rylah out the door. The men heard the crunch of tires on the gravel as the car rolled out of the driveway. Powell shook his head.

"I don't like this."

* * *

Three hours later, Rylah was still looking for a dress. Ian and Shaw looked at each other with exasperated. How long did it take for a woman to find a dress, especially since she couldn't see them? They had a woman from the customer service desk get her dress size, as they knew nothing at all about dress sizing. Ian found yet another dress. 

"How about this one?" he asked. Rylah fingered the material and shook her head.

"I don't like the fabric," she said, heading off in the other direction. She fingered the materials of a few other dresses, settling on one that she thought she liked.

"What color is this?" she asked. Shaw was closest to her.

"Somewhere between lime and electric green," he said. She immediately dropped the fabric.

"I want something that won't make me stick out," she said. Shaw found something and held it to her.

"This might work, this one's grey," he said. She wrinkled up her nose.

"No thank you," she said. "Grey makes me look ashy. Mom said so when I was getting a dress for prom way back when." She walked away and Ian spoke.

"What about this one?" he asked. She walked over to him, fingering the fabric.

"This one feels like it would be comfortable, what color is it?"

"Black, and floor length," Ian said. She smiled.

"Perfect," she said, taking it from him. "You're sure it's the right size?"

"Positive," he replied.

"Somebody's going to have to button me when I get out," she said. Shaw looked at Ian.

"I'm going to go find something. Be right back," Ian said. Shaw sighed.

"I'll do it," he said. She bounced into the changing room to try on her dress. She poked her head out of the dressing room a little later.

"Shaw, can you come help me?" she asked nervously. Shaw approached.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said. She opened the door and turned her back to him, allowing him to button the neck of her dress. She turned around to face him.

"I don't think this fits right," she said. "It's awfully tight." Shaw smiled.

"It fits fine. You look good," he said. She smiled. "Alright, unbutton me." She turned around again and Shaw unbuttoned the neck. Ian returned as Rylah was stepping out of the dressing room, the dress slung over her arm.

"Alright, I'm ready."

* * *

Riley and Ben emerged from the National Archives, tired and more than a little concerned by the fact that no one believed them. Well, they would see who would get the last laugh when the Declaration was stolen…by him. Ben walked quickly, frustrated, and headed towards the Lincoln Memorial. Riley quickened his pace to keep up with Ben. They reached the Lincoln Memorial and walked about halfway up before Ben sat down, Riley following suit, grateful for the reprieve from walking, but that feeling was quickly overwhelmed by the feeling of concern for his friend's safety (both physical and mental). He turned to look at Ben, who had a contemplative look on his face, as if concocting some sort of a plan in his mind. 

"This is huge. Prison huge," Riley said. Ben looked at him nonchalantly. "You are going to prison. You know that?" He continued. Ben shrugged.

"Yeah, probably," he said. Riley nodded after having his fears for his friend's mental health confirmed.

"This would bother most people," he said. Ben stood up and looked up at the monument.

"Look, Ian's going to try to steal it and if he succeeds, he will destroy the Declaration of Independence," he started.

"Rylah wouldn't let him do that. She's studying to be a chemist," he said. Ben continued as if Riley hadn't spoken.

"The fact is, the only way to protect the declaration is to steal it. It's upside-down," he said. He sighed, sitting back down. "I don't think we have a choice. Riley shook his head, standing up.

"For God-sakes Ben! It's like stealing a national monument," he said, trying to talk some sense into Ben, all the while cursing Ben's stubbornness inwardly. He motioned to the Lincoln Memorial. "It's like stealing him! It can't be done. Not it shouldn't be done, it _can't_ be done." Ben looked up at him. Riley shook his head. "Let me prove it to you."

* * *

Riley sat across from Ben, multiple books opened and strewn in front of himself and Ben. He looked at Ben over the brim of his glasses. He cleared his throat. Ben looked up at him with a look of childish innocence plastered on his features. 

"Pay attention Ben. I brought you to the Library of Congress," Riley said, motioning around him. "Why? Because it's the biggest library in the world. Over 20 million books. They're all saying the same exact thing. _Listen to Riley_." He pointed to a diagram in a book in front of him. "What we have here, my friend, is an entire layout of the Archives. We've got builder's blueprints, we have construction orders, phone lines, water and sewage. It's all here," he said, tapping the book in front of him. "Now when the declaration is on display, it is surrounded by guards and video monitors and little families from Iowa and little kids on their 8th grade field trip. And beneath an inch of bulletproof glass is an army of sensors and heat monitors that will go off if someone gets to close with a high fever." He flipped a page in his book. "Now when it's not on display, it is lowered into a four foot thick concrete steel plated vault that happens to be equipped with an electronic combination lock and biometric access and denial systems." Ben smiled.

"You know, Thomas Edison tried and failed nearly 2000 times to develop the cotton filament for the incandescent light bulb," he said. Riley looked confused.

"Edison?" he asked. _What did Edison have to do with anything?_

"Yes, and when asked about it he said 'I didn't fail, I found out 2000 ways how not to make a light bulb,' but he only needed to find one way to make it work," he said. He placed a book in front of Riley, who looked down at it. "The preservation room. Go ahead, enjoy." Riley was now cursing Ben's smarts as well. "Do you know what the preservation room is for?"

"Delicious jams and jellies?" Riley quipped. Ben rolled his eyes.

"That's where they clean, repair, and maintain all the documents and storage housings when they aren't on display or in the vault. Now when the case needs work, they take it out of the vault and directly across the hall into the preservation room. The best time for us- or Ian- to steal it would be during the Gala this weekend, when the guards are distracted by the VIPs upstairs, but we'll make our way to the preservation room where there is much less security," he explained with a smug sense of security. Riley was beginning to curse that too.

"Huh…" he said. "Well if Ian…." No, he wouldn't be able to pull something like that off. He flipped a couple of pages. "Preservation room…the gala…" He looked up at Ben over the top of his glasses. "This might be possible." Ben smiled.

"It might," he said.

* * *

_So? What did you think. Ian thinks you should review. Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism welcomed but no flames please._

_ERH_


	5. The Gala

_Yey! Another chapter! Sorry this took so long, but the length is seven pages! That should make up for it. Next chapter will be fun to write. Kudos and plushies to all my reviewers!_

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Gala**

* * *

Ian waited impatiently for Rylah to get out of her room. She was still getting ready and if they wasted much more time, it would make it all that much harder for them to infiltrate. He paced back and forth, unable to keep his impatience hidden. He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his jacket. He looked at his watched and grumbled under his breath. _Curse women and their need for perfection!_

Suddenly, the door opened and Ian turned around, the words "about time" on his lips, but he stopped before he started. Her dress was beautiful on the hanger but on her it was…gorgeous. The floor length dress buttoned at the neck and a mesh fabric with a flowered pattern hung in long bell sleeves and curved all the way around to her shoulder blades, leaving a small triangle of skin showing in the back. From her ears hung the earrings he had bought at the store with three pearls dangling from a metal triangle. Rylah could feel him staring at her and fidgeted.

"What?" she asked. "Does it look that bad?" No response from Ian. "I told Shaw it didn't fit." Ian smiled and put his hand on under her chin.

"It fits you like a glove," he said. She smiled, relieved. He took her arm with his free hand. "Now come on. We'll be late."

* * *

Ian escorted Rylah through the security check and up the stairs. Rylah let her hands wander over the cool wood of the banister. She pulled Ian's arm closer to her as she heard the abrupt change in volume, as if someone had just opened a door. Ian led her in flawlessly. They were welcomed by a few people, who then left to greet others. Ian looked down at her. 

"Would you like some champagne?" he asked. Rylah shook her head.

"I don't drink," she said, her voice quiet and timid, so unlike what Ian was used to hearing from her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, lifting her chin so he could look at her face.

"I'm just nervous. I don't recognize these voices," she said. She tried to shrink, but Ian held her where she was. She put her hand on Ian's wrist. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be fine." Ian smiled.

"Just some punch then?" he asked. She placed her head on his arm.

"I'd like that." Ian escorted her over to the punch table, pouring her a glass and taking a glass of champagne for himself. He sighed, a little bored as this was what he grew up doing, and looked at his watch. He still had a good ten minutes more. He waited patiently and socialized with people that he barely knew until it was time to set the plan into motion. He made his exit while talking with a group of women about the Constitution. They quite bored him actually. He cleared his throat.

"I do hope you excuse me. I have very much enjoyed talking to all of you," he said to the group of six with sarcasm so laden with charm they didn't notice it. "But I must go." He put his arm around Rylah's waist and moved her towards a quieter portion of the room. "Rylah, I'm going to the bathroom and straightening myself up a bit. Stay here until I come back," he said. She sighed.

"Alright, but hurry," she said. "I don't like the idea of being here all alone." He laughed and kissed her forehead.

"Don't worry, it will be like I never left," he said. With that, he turned and left Rylah alone. She stayed there for a few moments before a familiar voice reached her ears. She moved closer, excusing herself as she bumped into a few people (though she was able to avoid a fair amount of them), in order to find out if it really was the person she thought it was.

"A toast, yeah? To high treason," he said. Anger surged up inside her. The nerve! "That's what these men were committing when they signed the Declaration. Had we lost the war, they would have been hanged, beheaded, drawn and quartered, and - Oh! Oh, my personal favorite - and had their entrails cut out and burned!" he continued good-naturedly. "So, here's to the men who did what was considered wrong in order to do what they knew was right. What they knew was right." There was a pause here for a moment where Rylah could only assume he drank whatever he was holding. "Well, good night." He turned as he said this and Rylah, listening to the sound of his voice, stepped into what she assumed to be his determined path (A/N: Remember, when the sight goes, the other senses get stronger. Music students also are very good at determining the course of sound I am told). Ben looked at her in shock.

"Rylah?" he asked. She folded her arms across her chest. "How…why are you here?"

"RYLAH!" Riley's voice crackled into Ben's earphone.

"I might ask you the same question," she said acidly. Ben was a little confused by her tone.

"I made a last minute donation," he said, using the same phony excuse. She narrowed her eyes.

"Using Ian's money?" she asked.

"No," Ben answered, truthfully this time. "How'd you get here."

"Ian donated some money to the archives and he brought me," she said. Ben's eyes widened in alarm.

"Wait, Ian's here?" he asked. She shifted her posture, one indicating more impatience.

"How else do you think I got here? You think I drove myself?" Ben looked around, completely ignoring her remark.

"Where is he?" he asked. She sighed.

"He went to the bathroom about five minutes ago, if it's any of your business," she said. He turned and she grabbed for the back of his jacket when she heard his footsteps, following him. "What? You think I'm just gonna let you walk away like that? After all you've done?" By this time, they were halfway down the corridor with the bathrooms. Ben turned around, not wanting her to cause a scene.

"What did I do to you?" he asked. She didn't dignify that with an answer. She hauled back and punched him, and for not knowing how Ben was standing, she hit him pretty square in the gut. He grunted and turned to go into the bathroom to look for Ian, as he was afraid that he might haul back and hit _her_ if he stayed, despite the usually calm and unexcitable man he was. The nerve of that girl! He recovered by the time he went into the bathroom. He took a quick look around. He was the only one in the bathroom except for a man he was positive wasn't Ian (as the man was heavyset, balding, and in his late fifties if Ben had to make a guess). He swore under his breath and walked out. Rylah was still standing there, arms folded across her chest. "He's not there." Rylah's head turned in his direction.

"What?"

"He's not in there," Ben repeated. "Where is he?"

"You expect me to know?" she snapped, obviously now in a bad mood. "You men are all the same." She began to walked away, but Ben grabbed for her arm and caught her. She tried to wrench away from him. "Let go of me! I'll cause a scene!" she threatened.

"Rylah, I need your help," Ben said.

"WHY ON EARTH SHOULD I HELP YOU!" she shouted as she pulled free from his grasp. Ben was stunned. She walked away without waiting for a response. Ben walked off, having to set his plan into motion a little earlier than he had intended.

"Is everything alright?" a woman asked. Rylah turned quickly.

"Yes, ma'am. I was just wondering if it would be possible for someone to call me a cab. Do you know who I might speak to about that?" she asked.

"That would be me. My name is Dr. Abigail Chase, and I'll get you that cab," she said. She took Rylah's arm and brought her to the front where she got one of the women there to call her a cab. The woman looked at her kindly when she hung up the phone.

"The cab should be here in about twenty minutes," she said. Abigail smiled at Rylah.

"Anything else, Miss…?" she asked.

"Poole. Rylah Poole. Would you wait with me?" she asked. "See, I'm blind and I just need someone to tell me where my cab is." She used it as an excuse for company other than men. Abigail placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Of course," she said, walking out onto the steps to sit with Rylah.

* * *

"I'm in the elevator," Ben said. He was very nervous as he rode the elevator down to where the preservation room was. Riley talked to him on the way down. 

"I'm gonna turn off the surveillance cameras. Ready?" he asked. Not that Ben had a choice of whether he was ready or not. "In five, four, three... now," Riley said as the doors opened. Ben rolled his eyes. What happened to two and one? He stepped out into the vacant hall. "Ben Gates, you are now the Invisible Man." Ben wasted no time in walking over to where the hidden keyboard was.

"I'm here."

"Give me the letters for her password," he said. He thought how Rylah would disapprove of his less than legal methods of getting into the gala and preservation room. Ben moved his flashlight over the keyboard and smiled, laughing softly. "What do you got for me?" Riley asked. Again, Ben laughed softly. "Hit me with it."

"A-E-F-G..." he said, moving the flashlight again. "L-O-R-V-Y." He finished. Riley typed the letters into the computer.

"Anagrams being listed." He said. The results took only a few seconds to register on the screen. "OK. Top results: A glove fry…A very golf…Fargo levy…Gravy floe…Valey frog…also Ago fly rev…Grove fly a…Are fly gov…Era fly gov…Elf gov ray…" he listed.

"It's Valley Forge," he said.

"Valley For...I don't have that on my computer," Riley said, unsure.

"It's Valley Forge, she pressed the E and L twice," he explained. "Valley Forge was a turning point in the American Revolution." Here the door opened. Riley laughed.

"Can I marry your brain?" he asked. "We're in." Ben walked in and pointed to the camera. "Hello." Ben immediately set to work, walking over to the casing and using the drill he had brought to remove the backing. "Ben, you're doing great." Riley said. After a few minutes, Ben had only gotten a few screws out. "Ben, pick it up." He said. "You got about one..." Suddenly the picture cut out. Riley checked the wires on his laptop. "I lost my feed," he said, slightly alarmed.

"What?" Ben asked, a little more alarmed than Riley, but that changed quickly.

"I lost my feed, Ben. I don't know where anyone is. I have nothing. Ben, I have no...Ben, I have nothing!" he said. "Get out of there. Get out of there now." Riley commanded.

"I'm taking the whole thing," Ben said, lifting it from the table. "I'll get it out in the elevator."

"What are you talking about?" Riley asked. "Is it heavy?" Ben chose to ignore that as he waited for the elevator to arrive. He heard a loud bang as the door hit the wall behind him. He turned around, afraid he'd been caught. Instead he was met face to face with one elegantly dressed Ian Howe.

"Gates," he said, as if he was surprised to see him there. Shaw burst forth from behind Ian with a gun drawn. Ben immediately moved the casing up to protect his face and torso. Shaw fired at Ben, leaving three cracked portions of the glass where the bullets hit. Riley jumped as if someone was shooting at him.

"What was that? Who's shooting?" he asked as Ben got into the elevator. Shaw reached the elevator just as the doors closed.

"Damn!" Ian said. "He's got the bloody map!"

"Are you still there? Ben?" he asked, afraid that the worst had happened.

"I'm in the elevator. Ian's here. There was, uh, shooting," he explained. Riley shook his head.

"I hate that guy."

* * *

Ian rushed up into the gala, careful to avoid anyone on his way up. He moved into the room where he had left Rylah, but she wasn't there. 

"Damn!" he said again, this time more under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair and casually walked over to the exit. He smiled at the woman waiting there. "It was a pleasure being here but I regrettably must leave. I have business to attend to with an old colleague."

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," she said, returning his smile. He merely nodded before proceeding down the steps. He walked over to the catering truck which his men had come in.

Meanwhile, Abigail waited with Rylah for her cab to come. Rylah seemed a bit preoccupied, but Abigail wasn't about to pry. Her cab came earlier than expected and Abigail saw her off.

"It'll be fine," she said, not even exactly sure why she said it. The girl merely nodded.

"Thank you, I really, _really_ appreciate this," Rylah said before closing the door on the cab and leaving. Abigail returned to the gala, noticing the man she knew as Paul Brown walk out a side door. She followed him out.

Ben walked out after making a detour into the gift shop, completely unaware that he was being followed. "Where are you, Ben? Where are you?" Riley was drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel of the bright red van.

"Stop talking," Ben said when he was halfway across the street. Riley jumped. He hadn't expected an answer. "Start the van." He looked up.

"Ben, the...the mean Declaration lady's behind you," he said as Ben opened up the back of the truck and rifled around for a few seconds.

"Hey," she said. He turned and closed the door on the back of the truck.

"Oh, it's you. Hello," he said.

"Mr Brown, what's going on? What's that?" she said, pointing to the rolled up object in his hand. He shrugged.

"This? It's a souvenir," he said.

"Really?" she said, obviously not believing him in the slightest. He nodded.

"Stop chatting and get in the van," Riley hissed into the microphone on his headset.

"Did you enjoy the party?" Ben asked, obviously anxious to get away, but he didn't want it to show that much.

"Yeah," she said. Suddenly, lights began flashing as the alarm inside the Archives went off, permeating the quiet atmosphere.

"Oh, my God," Riley said. They were caught in the act and most definitely going to jail now.

"Oh, my God! You did not…" She said, looking quite disbelieving.

"No..." Ben said.

"Security! Over here!" Abigail called, not taking her eyes off Ben and the document in his hand. "Give me that!" she said, grabbing it from his hands.

"It's yours. Take it!" he said, moving back and getting into the van as Abigail made her way back to the Archive building, all the while shouting.

"Security! Over here! Security! Security, over here!"

"We can't just let her go!" Riley protested. Ben nodded.

"We can. Go!" he said. Riley revved the engine.

Ian, however, managed to appear just as she was coming back towards the building. He smiled malevolently.

"Got you," he whispered. He climbed into the back of the truck where his men were waiting. "Go. Viktor! Move!" he said. The catering van started into motion. Ben was immediately alarmed.

"Wait. No, hold it. Hold it!" he said. Riley was confused.

"Wha...?"

"Oh, bad," Ben said, watching the scene unfold before his eyes. "Bad, bad, bad!" A man, who by his build could only have been Shaw, jumped out of the back of the truck and advanced on Abigail, who hugged the document protectively against her chest. Ben moved to help, but someone began shooting at him, causing him to use the van as a shield.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Give me the document," he demanded, grabbing for the document.

"Let me go!" she protested, struggling against him.

"Just bring her!" Ian said. Of all the places to have a struggle…the cops could be here any second.

"No! No!" Abigail cried as Shaw picked her up and brought her to the back of the truck. Ben climbed back into the van.

"Go! Go!" he commanded. Riley, figuring it would be useless to argue with Ben when he was playing hero, slammed on the gas. Not that vans go that fast to begin with, but the catering truck was getting farther away by the minute.

* * *

Ian stared at the woman in front of him, with her defiant eyes. He laid a hand on the counter, trying to look nonchalant. 

"And just who might you be?" he asked, trying to sound charming and persuasive. She narrowed her eyes at him. He nodded his head at rolled object in her hands. "Why don't you just pass me that document? Then we can all go home." He said. She shook her head and backed against the door.

Suddenly, the van began to jump and rattle violently. Ian swore, particularly at Viktor who was driving, as the pots and pans from the truck crashed around them. The woman found the handle on the door and forced it open. Unfortunately, this put her in a position where she either had to fall in the middle of the road and risk being run over or hang onto the door.

"Help!" she screamed. Riley's van inched closer and Shaw pulled a gun, firing a few rounds before Ian shoved the point of the gun down.

"No! If she falls, the document falls!" he snapped. He stood for a moment and waited until the door slammed closed for a brief flicker of a moment. He took the document from her hands and the door opened again. "Thank you." She glanced at him horrified.

"No!" Ian turned his back and smiled at Shaw.

"Got it. Go on," he said. Shaw stepped forward and began to fire at them once more. Soon, the red van took off down another street and Shaw shook his head.

"We lost them," he said.

"That's all right. This... is what we need," Ian said, unrolling the document. He briefly glanced it over when his eyes noticed something in the corner…a price sticker for $35.00. Ian crumpled the paper and threw it to the floor in frustration. "Well done, Gates. Well done." He slammed his hands onto the metal counter as Shaw and Powell closed the doors and the catering truck disappeared down a side street.

* * *

_Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next one should be up a lot sooner. Please review. No flames plz, but constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated. _

_ERH_


	6. Confrontation and Meditation

_Here's the next chapter. (sad ERH) I have no reviewers to shout out to. Alright, shout-out to everyone that read it and didn't review. There's a poem in the middle of the chapter that's supposed to double as song lyrics. Tell me how I did with that in a review. I'm a little rusty on poetry. With that, I leave you the new chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Confrontation and Meditation**

* * *

Ian walked into the house as the men drove off. They were going to drink off the failure and start anew tomorrow. Ian, however, decided that it would be in his best interest to not wake up with a hangover. Besides, he was worried about where Rylah had gone. 

He walked upstairs and found the door to the room where Rylah was staying closed. She rarely closed her door, so he figured something must be up. He rapped on the door with his knuckles. The replying sound was the sound of Rylah shuffling across the room. She opened the door, already in her pajamas.

"Rylah! I'm glad to see you're—" he began, but he was interrupted. He face darkened.

"Go away, Ian," she growled, attempting to close the door. Ian stopped it easily. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Why?" Ian asked, a trace of annoyance in his words.

"You left me alone at the gala! You knew I was uncomfortable there!" she accused.

"What are you talking about!" Ian asked. "I was there the entire time!" Not a complete lie. "If anything you left me!"

"Of course I left! Gates told me you were gone. What was I supposed to do!" she said, voice rising.

"And you trust Gates more than you trust me?" Ian asked. She waited for a moment to regain control of her temper before speaking.

"What was I supposed to think, Ian? You lied to me!" she said. He cocked his head.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" he asked.

"YOU TOLD ME BEN WAS DEAD!" she shouted.

"DAMN IT RYLAH!" he yelled in reply, slamming his fist into the door, unable to keep his anger in anymore. She instantly recoiled, as if he had hit her and not the door. "Listen to me!" She placed her hands over her ears.

"Go away, Ian! You're scaring me!" she said in little more than a whisper. She felt herself shaking even though she knew Ian would never hurt her. She heard Ian slam the door behind him. She sat down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. She began to sing to herself, a song that her mother often sang and she had picked up the words. It was her mother's favorite song, after her divorce with Rylah's father, and it played on the radio all the time.

_I never thought I'd say it  
But it seems, my dear we're through  
I never thought the day would come  
When I'd say goodbye to you_

_You eyes, how they shone  
When you looked at me that way  
And now they look at someone else  
I never thought I'd see the day_

_You were my everything  
You were my life, heart and soul  
Now you've ripped me apart  
And left a great gaping hole_

_I thought that you wanted me  
All you told me was lies  
A curtain of deceit  
Is all I see in your eyes_

_And though it kills me  
To leave what I had with you  
It's time for me to move on  
And start my life anew_

Meanwhile…

Ian had sat down with his back against the door. He had completely blown that meeting. He had thought that Ben had died on the Charlotte. How was he supposed to know! He rested his head against the door and looked up at the ceiling. That's when he heard the words traveling through the closed door.

At first he thought that she had turned on the radio, but then he realized that she was singing it herself. Her voice was beautiful. Then he listened to the words and they stung him. He felt responsible for her well being and causing her to leave was not part of his self-appointed job description. He settled his resolve right there. He was going to make sure she didn't leave. He didn't want to see her get hurt. He found a comfortable position (or at least as comfortable as he could get) and fell asleep outside the door.

* * *

Ian woke to see sunlight streaming through the gaps in the side of the shade. He didn't remember falling asleep in his room. Nor did he remember taking off his suit. He got up and pulled on a pair of jeans hurriedly. He didn't even bother to grab a shirt on his way out the door. He went immediately to Rylah's room. Her door was open and her room unusually tidy. 

He hurried downstairs to see Phil and McGregor working at a laptop, Powell lying on the couch, Viktor reading the newspaper, and Shaw just stepping out of the kitchen.

"Where's Rylah?" he demanded. The men looked at each other.

"She left about an hour ago," Phil said.

"Yeah, I drove her down to Main Street," Shaw said. Ian sat down on one of the free empty chairs. Shaw looked at him with one eyebrow cocked. "You alright, Ian?"

"You look like you could use some coffee," Viktor said, getting up and going into the kitchen. Ian didn't respond, at least for a few moments.

"She's really gone then?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, she's not here," Powell said as he slowly and lazily continued to recover from his hangover. Being the Irishman that he was, he couldn't resist a drinking challenge and that was why he was the one with the biggest hangover. Shaw, on the other hand, had nothing to drink (being the designated driver) and allowed the other men to make fools of themselves in their drunken stupor.

Ian got up, ignoring the cup of coffee offered him by Viktor, and went back to his room. He pulled on a shirt and shoes. Might as well go for a walk to clear his head and make himself ready for the next step in their plan of attack. He walked back downstairs and out the door, without so much a word to or from his men.

He walked down the sidewalk, chastising himself for letting himself get this worked up over a girl. He hadn't let anyone get that close to him since his first girlfriend, whom he had trusted absolutely. She had betrayed him and sent him to juvenile hall for a good six months.

But something was different about Rylah. Something about her made him uneasy. She trusted him unconditionally. He wanted to be worthy of that blind faith she had in him. He smiled and chuckled to himself at the bad pun. He then resumed his train of thought. _She trusts me absolutely. _He supposed he felt this way because he wanted to justify that, and he supposed if he couldn't do it by confessing the whole truth to her, he wanted to do it by protecting her (another thing he had completely failed at). Coupling that with the whole Declaration fiasco, this whole thing was turning out to be a complete nightmare.

He continued to wander around, walking down a street with a farmer's market. He stopped occasionally to look at their wares. He never bought anything, but he chatted with the salespeople. He had even managed to make a small shopkeeper blush when he complimented her on her handmade jewelry. She had insisted that he take one of her newest creations, free of charge. He had taken it, albeit hesitantly, and began to walk home. He was about three blocks from where they were staying when he saw something he could barely believe. Rylah was walking home with a large German Shepard in tow and an armful of groceries (mainly fruits, vegetables, and some meat). He rushed forward to get ahead of her and crossed the street so he was right in her path. The dog did not have enough time to react, nor did Rylah, and she collided with Ian. She stepped back, stunned, and tried to balance the groceries.

"I am so sorry. I'm just getting used to this whole dog thing. I didn't mean anything by it," she said, trying to avoid confrontation. Ian took a look at the grocery bags.

"You don't have a gun in there, do you?" he asked teasingly, remembering the day they first met. At the sound of Ian's voice, her personality did a complete turnaround, going from apologetic to indignant in no time flat.

"If you were any sort of gentleman, Ian Howe, you would take some of these groceries off my hands and escort me home," Rylah said. Yeah, they weren't on the best of terms then, either. Ian took four of the five grocery bags and offered Rylah his arm.

"May I have the honor of escorting a beautiful, fair, maiden such as yourself to your humble estate?" he asked with all the dramatic flair he could muster. He was pleased they were back on speaking terms. She narrowed her eyes.

"Now you're making fun of me," she said. The dog growled a guttural warning. She hushed the dog. Ian smiled.

"Maybe a little bit," he said, retracting his proffered arm. The dog continued ahead, Ian side by side with Rylah. "I have to tell you," he began after a long silence. "You gave me a bit of a scare." Rylah shook her head to get the hair out of her face.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, last night you sang that song about leaving and lies, and I thought that perhaps you were going to make good on the words," he said. She paused for a moment and then the corners of her lips turned into a smile. She began to laugh. "What?" he asked.

"No, it's nothing," she said. "My mother used to listen to that song all the time on the radio. I guess I just picked it up. It makes me think of her and how she used to sing to me when I was worried. Oddly enough, I can't remember any of the other songs she used to sing," she said. Ian stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house. Rylah did and the dog instinctively followed his master. He sat obediently at her heel.

"So what's with the dog?" Ian asked.

"Well, I signed up for a Seeing Eye dog a long time ago and they finally had one that fitted my needs and was easy to procure from this address," she said. "I picked him up this morning. Shaw drove me. I figured as long as I was out, I might as well pick up a few well needed supplies." Ian looked at the German Shepard and back to Rylah.

"I guess if you can get used to using him as your eyes, I can get used to having him around," he said, bending down in front of the dog. He stretched out his hand to pet him, but the dog snapped at him, baring his teeth and growling when Ian withdrew. Rylah furrowed her brow.

"That's funny," she said. "The lady at the pick-up told me that he was very good-natured. He hasn't snapped at anybody. Maybe he needs some time to get used to you." Ian nodded and got up, unsure.

"So what's his name?"

* * *

_Well? What did you think? AND I'm leaving it up to the reviewers to name the dog. If you leave a name for the dog in your review, I'll consider all of them. Otherwise, the dog's name will be Spot (heh heh, He's a seeing eye dog). Well, tell me what you thought. Constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated. No flames please._


	7. Discovery and Inspiration

_I know, it's a miracle. I actually updated very quickly after the first one. LOL. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. This is a lot of Ben, Riley, and Abigail so I can move theplot along.The next chapter, however,should have some interesting effects on our friends here..._

_There will be a sequelto this. I am looking for acreative title. Something that keeps in the theme of blindnessor sight or something._

_SHOUT OUT to **BabiGirlBri16**_, _**Crazy Little Emily**, and **WalkingInMemphis23**. To answer your question, WalkingInMemphis23, I don't hate Ian, so everyone can't hate Ian. LOL. _

_Without further ado, the chapter._

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 6: Discovery and Inspiration**

* * *

Patrick Gates was nearly asleep watching the television when the doorbell rang. Grumbling to himself, he got to his feet, switching off the television. He pulled his robe closer around him and went grudgingly over to the door. It was probably dome door to door group, Girl Scouts or something. He opened the door and was shocked, though he didn't show anything in his face. Standing there was Ben, Riley, and a woman he had never seen before. Ben smiled at him. 

"Dad," he said. Patrick paused for a moment, looking at them.

"Where's the party?" he asked, obviously disappointed in his son. Ben cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other.

"Well... I'm in a little trouble," he confessed. He might as well tell him half the truth. Patrick's eyes flickered to Abigail and back.

"Is she pregnant?" he asked. Ben suppressed a smile.

"Well, if she is, are you gonna leave the woman carrying your grandchild standing out in the cold?" he asked. Patrick rolled his eyes and allowed them entrance into his home. Ben was the first one in. Abigail paused next to Riley.

"I look pregnant?" she asked, looking down at herself. Riley shook his head. He knew from experience that was a loaded question. It was nearly the same as saying yes when a woman asks if she's fat. Riley followed Abigail into the house. Patrick pulled Ben towards him.

"This better not be about that dumb treasure," he hissed. Ben didn't respond. He turned to Riley and Abigail. "Well, have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable." He pointed to a half-open pizza box laying on a small end table. "There's some pizza. It's still warm, I think."

"Dad...I need the Silence Dogood letters," he said. Patrick turned to look at him. "Yeah, it's about the treasure." Patrick rolled his eyes, obviously getting agitated.

"And he dragged you two into this nonsense?" he asked.

"Literally," Abigail said. Ben glared at her over his father's shoulder. Riley raised his hand as he was about to take a bite of his pizza slice.

"I volunteered."

"Well, unvolunteer, before you waste your life," he advised. Ben pushed past his father.

"Knock it off, Dad," he demanded. Patrick was nowhere near done.

"Sure, sure, I know, I'm the family kook," he said to Ben's back. "I have a job, a house, health insurance. At least I had your mother, for however brief a time. At least I had you." Patrick looked at his son with disappointment. "What do you have? Him?" he asked, gesturing to Riley.

"Look, if you just give us the letters, we're gone," Ben said, turning to face his father. Patrick shook his head.

"You disappoint me, Ben," he said quietly.

"Well, maybe that's the real Gates-family legacy. Sons who disappoint their fathers," Ben snapped at his father, his voice much louder. Patrick furrowed his brow. Ben's comment had hit home. He stood tall.

"Get out. Take your troubles with you," he said, turning his back on Ben. Determined he would not go away empty handed, Ben walked up beside his father.

"I found the Charlotte," he said, earning a quirked eyebrow from Abigail. Patrick looked his son in the eyes.

"The Charlotte?" he asked. Ben nodded. "You mean she was a ship?" he asked.

"Yeah, she was beautiful. It was amazing, Dad," he said.

"And the treasure?" Patrick asked, sounding almost like a kid in a candy shop. Ben hesitated.

"No, no. But we found another clue that led us here," he began to explain, but his father cut in.

"Yeah, and that'll lead you to another clue. And that's all you'll ever find, is another clue," he said. "Don't you get it, Ben? I finally figured it out. The legend says that the treasure was buried to keep it from the British. But what really happened was the legend was invented, to keep the British occupied searching for buried treasure. The treasure is a myth," he explained. Ben shook his head.

"I refuse to believe that," he said. Patrick hung his head, placing a gnarled hand on his forehead.

"Well, you can believe what you want. You're a grown person. What am I doing? Do what you want, Ben. Do what you want," he said, turning to leave the room. Abigail looked at Ben.

"He's probably right. You don't even know if there is another clue," she said. Ben looked at her and a half-smile flickered across his face.

"Well, I can think of a way where we could find out. And we can find out right now."

* * *

Rylah heard the clink of metal on glass as Shaw set down two sodas in front of her and Ian. She knew what everyone liked and could name it off the bat. Ian was especially fond of root beer. Viktor wouldn't touch a soda if it wasn't Coke with lemon or lime flavor in it. Powell enjoyed the occasional Mountain Dew, whereas Shaw preferred vanilla Coke. Phil liked Cherry Coke and Rylah herself enjoyed ginger ale. They had all been muddling through a riddle that she had only just heard. Ian seemed to be getting frustrated. 

"Read it again?" Rylah asked, her head leaning against Ian. His arm was draped over her shoulder. Ian sighed.

"_The legend writ, the stain affected, the key in Silence undetected. Fifty-five in iron pen, Mr. Matlock can't offend_," he said.

"It doesn't make any sense," she said, clicking open her soda. On the floor beneath her feet, her dog, Yosome, picked his ears up at the sound. Ian moved Rylah's hair out of her face. She shied away from his hand at first, but let him play with a piece of her hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. As if this somehow connected the two brains, Ian was suddenly struck by inspiration. He removed his arm from around Rylah's shoulder and leaned forward, forcing Rylah to sit up.

"Gentlemen," he began, calling all the attention to him. The men looked up from whatever it was they were doing. "Why is this word, _Silence_, capitalized," he asked, making sure Rylah knew what he was talking about. Viktor shrugged.

"Because it's important?" he asked. Rylah caught on and her face brightened.

"Because it's a name," she said. Ian smiled.

"Exactly."

* * *

"That's not a map. Is it?" Riley looked confused as Ben jotted down the series of numbers on the back of the Declaration. 

"More clues. What a surprise," Patrick said. Riley ignored him.

"Are those latitudes and longitudes?" he asked. Ben shook his head.

"That's why we need the Silence Dogood letters."

"That's the key?" Abigail asked, unsure.

"Yeah. '_The key in Silence undetected._'" He said as he finished getting all the numbers down. He looked up. "Dad, can we have the letters now?" Riley sighed, frustrated.

"Will somebody please explain to me what these magic numbers are?" Riley asked.

"It's an Ottendorf cipher," Abigail said, a little shocked.

"That's right," Patrick replied, glowing.

"Oh, OK," Riley said. As if that did anything to enhance his understanding. "What's an Ottendorf cipher?"

"They're just codes," Patrick said.

"Each of these three numbers corresponds to a word in a key," Ben answered.

"Usually a random book or a newspaper article," Abigail interjected. Ben cleared his throat.

"In this case, the Silence Dogood letters. So it's like the page number of the key text, the line on the page, and the letter in that line," he explained. Riley nodded in understanding. He supposed Rylah would have loved this. "So, Dad, where are the letters?" Ben asked. Patrick suddenly became evasive.

"You know, it's just by sheer happenstance that his grandfather..."

"Dad."

"...even found them. They were in an antique desk from the press room..."

"Dad."

"...of The New England Courant. That's a newspaper."

"Dad, where are the letters?" Ben asked, completely agitated. Patrick saw no other way around it and answered his son in the same tone.

"I don't have them, son." Ben looked at him for a moment as if to see if he would smile and say 'Just kidding!' but that moment never came. Ben exhaled deeply.

"What?"

"I don't have them," Patrick repeated matter-of-factly. Ben flopped down on a chair and removed his gloves. He looked at his father. If looks could kill, Patrick Gates would most certainly be dead.

"Where are they?" Ben asked. Patrick stared back at him.

"I donated them to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia." Ben stood up.

"Time to go," Ben said, getting up and putting on his jacket. Abigail looked at the document in shock.

"I still can't believe it. All this time no one knew what was on the back."

"The back of what?" Patrick asked, curious.

"No!" was the simultaneous exclamation of horror from Riley, Ben, and Abigail. Patrick had already flipped over the document and his hands were shaking.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God."

"I know," Ben said.

"Oh, my God. What have you done? This is... this is the..."

"I know!" Ben reiterated. No need to point out what they already knew.

"This is the Declaration of Independence!" Patrick wailed, now suddenly feeling much worse than he did before. Abigail peeled it from his hands.

"Yes. And it's very delicate," she said, holding it carefully and beginning to roll it back up.

"You stole it?" Patrick asked. Riley pointed to Ben to make sure he was free of any guilt.

"Dad, I can explain, but I don't have time," Ben said. He gestured to the document. "It was necessary. And you saw the cipher!"

"And that will lead to another clue, and that will lead to another clue! There is no treasure. I wasted twenty years of my life. And now you've destroyed yours!" he said, letting this sink in for a moment. "And you pulled me into all this." Ben half-smiled.

"Well, we can't have that."

* * *

_Well? What did you think? And the dog's name? LOL. If you are interested in the thought behind the name, I named him Yosume because it means "another's sight" in Japanese and I love the sound of Japanese words. Well, tell me what you thought in a review. Constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated, but no flames please._


	8. Clues and Running Shoes

_Hey guys, sorry for the long update. Massive writer's block, work, hw, and vacation do not provide easy updating. I finally got it up and its a long one for you. Figured I'd better make it worth it. Hope you all enjoy it. _

_Shoutouts to _**Crazy Little Emily, Isayssoccer, **_and_ **TheSongOfNature**. _Thanks for the reviews and this chapter is for you guys. _

_A/N: There is a slight issue with the formatting and I can't seem to get a horizontal line, so I'm going to put **.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E.** to designate where the section ends. As soon as I can get the lines, I will put them in. Now without further ado, the chapter._

**Chapter 7: Clues and Running Shoes**

"S-S-A-N-D," a young boy said, reading the letters he had scrawled on the post-it. Riley looked at the kid.

"OK," he said, "You're sure this is right?" The kid gave him a dirty look. Riley put his hand up in an attempt to pacify him. "OK. S-S-A..." He began to jot down the letters. The boy watched him, placing a finger on the edge of Riley's newspaper.

"No, N." Riley looked indignant.

"That is an N," he said. The kid shook his head at Riley.

"It doesn't look like an N." Riley pulled another post-it out with the numbers written on it.

"You know what? Here." He thrust the piece of paper at the kid. "Last one. OK?" He pulled another dollar from his wallet. "One more dollar." The kid took it from him,

"Thank you," he said, sliding it in his pocket. He scampered across the street and into the Franklin Institute.

"Go get the last four letters. Go get 'em, chief. Come on," he said, egging the little kid on until he saw him disappear behind the glass doors. He looked down at his newspaper, which now had writing all down the side. "OK. 'The vision to see the treasured past comes as the timely shadow crosses in front of the house of pass and...' 'Pass and...' what?" Riley pondered this aloud. "Pass and..." He looked around as if for inspiration and dropped his newspaper at what he saw.

Rylah was standing outside the doors to the Franklin institute. At her feet sat a large German Shepard. His eyes flickered to the bag that she had around her wrist. In bright, bold letters it proclaimed:

**THE HOUSE OF PASS AND STOWE  
**_Home of the Liberty Bell_

He quickly picked up his newspaper and jotted that down. He was just about to run across the road and talk to her, when he saw Ian and his men come out of the door. He watched as Ian kissed Rylah's forehead. He took this opportunity to run back to Ben. Alone, he was no match for Ian and his thugs, not even in defense of his sister.

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

Rylah waited outside the museum, leaning against the wall that served as a banister. Yosume sat protectively at her feet. She shuffled nervously. It was quite warm for a summer's day in Philadelphia and she was very thirsty. She was a bit startled when Yosume began to growl, but understood why he was growling when someone planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Ian?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Just making sure," she said, shushing Yosume, who reluctantly stopped growling. Ian touched his hand to the hand that wasn't holding the dog leash, and then removed it, offering her his assistance in getting up. She was about to get up when a young boy came bustling out of the museum. He collided with Ian, who was forced forward and that placed him in a very awkward position. His hands landed on either side of Rylah to steady himself and he was quite close to her face. It almost looked like he was cornering her.

"Sorry sir," the little boy said. He smiled and moved out of Rylah's way.

"S'alright," he said to the boy's retreating back. He took a moment and watched him.

"What's going on?" Rylah asked. Ian shook his head as he watched the boy jump up and down, attempting to look over the rock wall in the park. He began to walk down the stairs.

"I'm not sure." Shaw and the rest of them came up behind Rylah.

"What's up?" Shaw asked. Rylah shrugged and began her descent. Shaw followed closely behind her, catching her once when she stumbled. Powell, Phil, and Viktor walked down the other side of the steps. Yosume led the charge as they crossed the street, barking a warning to Rylah when she almost stepped out in front of an oncoming car. She came into the conversation at a strange place.

"Is this real?" she heard the little kid ask. Though she didn't know it, the kid was holding a hundred dollar bill. She heard Ian's soft chuckle.

"Just tell me what you told my friend," he said. The kid shrugged.

"Just a bunch of letters. I can't remember," the boy admitted. Ian placed a hand under his chin.

"Can you remember which ones you were gonna tell him next?" he asked, patience and kindness in his words, though they were laced intricately with malevolent charisma. He held the post-it out to Ian.

"Yeah, here. S-T-O-W," he said. Ian smiled.

"Thank you very much," he said, getting to his feet. The kid nodded and bounded away with the fresh $100 bill in his hands. Ian gave the note to Powell.

"Check this out. I want the best answer you can give me," he said, dropping the persona he had used with the kid. Powell nodded and went off to do what he had been asked. Rylah shook her head.

"What was that all about?" she asked, completely confused. He stood up and placed an arm over her shoulder.

"Just trying to figure out the puzzle," he said, leaning his head toward her ear. Rylah's heart began beating faster.

"You're not the only one," she muttered, though she believed she only thought it. Ian looked at her. Powell whistled before Ian could ask her about it. He walked over, Rylah giving a command to Yosume to follow.

"Top results: Liberty Bell and Independence Hall," Powell said. Ian nodded. "Alright, let's move out. They began to pile into two different cars. Rylah was about to go with Shaw and Powell, but Ian stopped her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'd feel better if you didn't come on this one," he said quietly. Rylah shifted her stance.

"Is there something I should know?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong," he answered. She didn't believe a word of it.

"You've never told me to stay behind before. What aren't you telling me?" she growled. Ian stood his ground.

"Rylah, just trust me on this," he said. "And I promise I'll take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner. Just you and me." Rylah contemplated this for a moment, before she gave in.

"Alright," she said, dejectedly. Ian smiled triumphantly. He had won. She gave a command to Yosume, who led her to the car with Phil and Viktor and Ian climbed into the seat next to her. Everything was going exactly as he had planned it.

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

Riley and Abigail waited impatiently at the bottom of the staircase in Independence Hall. Riley was tapping his foot and Abigail was anxiously looking around, hoping they weren't about to get caught. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ben appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Hey. What'd you score?" Riley asked as Ben joined them. Ben pulled a pair of what seemed to be glasses with interchangeable multicolored lenses from his pocket and held them up for them to see.

"I found this. Some kind of ocular device. 'The vision to see the treasured past?'" he asked, quite sure of himself. He took the Declaration from Abigail. "Let me take this." He began to take it out of its protective casing and wrapping.

"Aw, they're like early American X-ray specs," Riley said. Abigail held in a laugh. Leave it to Riley.

"You know, Benjamin Franklin invented something like these," she said. Ben looked at her for a moment.

"I think he invented these," he said, bringing the Declaration over to them.

"So, what do we do with them?" Riley asked.

"The same thing we do with any other type of glasses," Ben said. "We look through it. Here, help me." He began to unroll the Declaration.

"Careful," Abigail warned. Ben cast a 'no-duh' glance at her.

"You think?" he asked, a little more scathingly then he meant it. He looked at it and he sighed.

"What?" Abigail asked.

"It's just that the last time this was here it was being signed," Ben said, imagining how the hall must have looked with all the representatives from all the colonies. Riley let him bask for only a moment before snapping him out of it.

"Ben, there's another tour coming," he said. Ben nodded.

"Turn it over," he said. "Spectacles." Riley handed them to Ben, who put them on. He blinked a little surprised.

"What do you see?" Abigail asked.

"What is it? Is it a treasure map?" Riley goaded. Ben looked at it for a few seconds more before answering.

"It says, 'Heere at the wall', spelled with two E's. Take a look," he said, holding the glasses out. Riley reached for them, but by the time he was where the glasses had been, Abigail had taken them from him. She looked at the Declaration in astonishment.

"Wow," she said, utterly speechless. Riley sighed, getting frustrated by what he was starting to think was a wild goose chase.

"Why can't they just say, 'Go to this place, and here's the treasure, spend it wisely'?" he thought aloud. Ben smiled and looked up. Immediately the smile vanished from his face.

"Oh, no." Abigail looked up at him, then followed his gaze.

"Oh, no," she repeated. Riley caught what they had seen. Powell and McGregor were standing just outside the door to the museum, talking casually, all the while searching for something.

"Oh, no," he said. He had a bad feeling about this. "How'd they find us?" Ben began rolling up the Declaration.

"Well," he started, a little unnerved. "Ian has nearly unlimited resources." Ben paused for a moment. "And he's smart." Abigail walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back watching them for a moment.

"I don't think we can get out of here without being spotted," she said. Ben thought for a moment.

"Well, we don't want them to have the Declaration, or the glasses. But we especially don't want them to have them both together," he said contemplatively.

"So what do we do?" Riley asked, confused.

"We separate the lock from the key. We're splitting up," Ben said, a note of finality in his voice. Abigail nodded.

"Good idea." Riley looked from Abigail to Ben.

"Really?" Ben looked at him.

"Do you have any other ideas?" he asked. Riley was silent. Ben took that as a no. "I'll take this. And those." He took the empty Declaration case and the glasses, slinging the former over his shoulder and putting the latter in his pocket. "You keep that," he said, motioning to the Declaration. "Meet me at the car and call me if you have any problems."

"Like if we get caught and killed?" Riley asked. Ben turned and looked at him.

"Yeah. That would be a big problem," he began to walk out, but turned around. "Take care of her." The answer came simultaneously from Riley and Abigail.

"I will."

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

Ian sat next to Rylah on the small couch. She had her arm folded across her knees and her head resting on her arms. Ian faced her, concerned.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said, quietly. He moved closer, despite the protest of Yosume, who lay protectively at her feet.

"You don't sound fine," he said. He brushed the hair away from her face. "What's wrong?"

"Ian," she said, as if to stop his questions, but then she seemed to think better of it. She took a deep breath. "Is it alright…would it be okay…God, I'm stuttering like a schoolgirl." Ian cocked his head.

"Go on," he asked.

"Can I look at you?" she asked. Ian was confused. She didn't need prompting. "I've been with you for a few weeks now, you and your men. I've never seen any of you. You know my hands are my eyes. She paused here, blushing furiously. "I didn't want to overstep any boundaries and I hope I'm not being forward, it's just that—" Ian placed a finger on her lips and she instantly quieted. He took one of her hands and unfolded them from across her knees. Rylah adjusted her position and folded her legs underneath her, her heart racing.

Ian placed one of her hands on his cheek. She was warm compared to him. She brought the other hand up and placed it on his other cheek. She examined the deep creases in his forehead from too much stress. She felt his cheeks and around his eyes, droopy from exhaustion.

"What color are your eyes?" she asked.

"Blue-green," he answered, the stock answer he had prepared from his other girlfriends. She smiled for a moment and moved her hands down his nose and to his lips. She paused there only for a moment before running a hand back to his hair. She knitted her eyebrows for a moment before her smile returned.

"And your hair? What color is that?" she asked.

"Blonde," he replied. She nodded, completing her mental pictures. She removed her hands from his face and placed them in her lap.

"You're very handsome," she said, her voice soft once more. Ian smiled.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, amusement in his voice. She blushed fiercely. She didn't know what to say. Ian sat looking at her for a moment. She was not very confident but not overly shy either. Despite the fact she bore a remarkable resemblance to Riley, she was pretty. He wouldn't say she was the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, but she was pretty in her own way.

"Ian?" she asked softly, unsure if he was still beside her.

"I'm still here," he replied.

"Good," she said. "I don't want to be alone." Ian frowned. As if on cue, his cell phone rang. He took a look at the caller ID and took the call.

"Yeah?"

"Ian. Ian, I've got 'em," came Shaw's voice from the other line. He sounded as if he was running. "They're heading toward City Hall."

"OK, I'm on my way," Ian said. Rylah frowned.

"They're headed for the breezeway on the north side," Shaw said, just clarifying his position.

"I'll be right there," Ian said, hanging up his cell. He leaned forward and kissed Rylah on the forehead, a little concerned by the warmth.

"You feeling alright?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Yeah, coming down with a cold or the flu or something, that's all," she said. He brushed the hair out of her face. He grabbed a box of tissues and placed it on the table in front of the couch.

"I want you to stay here until I get back," he said. Rylah sighed.

"Yes, Mom," she said. Ian laughed slightly.

"There's a box of tissues on the table there," he said. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon." With that he walked out the door, shutting it and locking it. Rylah sighed and reclined on the couch.

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

"Watch out! Get out of my way!" Riley said as he and Abigail ran through a tourist group. Two men in suits blocked his way out unintentionally. He tried to shove through as both men tried to move away and follow their group. Abigail kept running, looking back to see where her accomplice had gone. When she turned, she saw a young man on a bicycle passing right in front of her. She had no time to stop and ran into the bike.

"Watch it!" the man growled at her as he kept going, but Abigail didn't notice. She felt the tube with the Declaration leave her fingers. She watched with wide eyes as it rolled into the middle of the busy street. She nearly shrieked as a car rolled near it, the Declaration narrowly avoiding its wheels. She got up to run and get it before disaster could strike. She ran out into the road only to look up and see the grille of a tractor-trailer coming at her. She stopped where she stood, a deer in the headlights. Riley narrowly pulled her out of the way. They fell back onto the sidewalk, Abigail badly shaking and still seeing her life flashing before her eyes. They both looked up to see if the Declaration was still all right. What they saw made them fear for its safety. Ian stood with it in his hand. Cars passed by him, but it didn't seem to faze him as he looked at them with cold eyes.

Riley and Abigail heard the shouts of their pursuers and, without a second thought, got up from the sidewalk and ran away from Ian and their pursuers. Shaw and Viktor skidded to a halt when they saw Ian and almost took off again before Ian held up a hand.

"Leave them! Let 'em go," he commanded. The men looked at him. Ian smiled. "We've got it."

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

Ben stopped running under an arch. He leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He had lost them. He was quite startled when his cell phone rang. He fumbled in his pocket and answered it.

"What?" he asked.

"We lost it," came Riley's voice. Ben knitted his eyebrows.

"What?" he asked again, not wanting to believe what he heard. Riley's voice sounded guarded and cautious.

"We lost the Declaration. Ian took it," Riley answered quietly. Ben nearly threw the phone against the cold stone walls of the arch. He thought better of it and let out a breath.

"Yeah, OK. You all right? You both all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, we're all right," Riley answered. He paused for a moment and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Ben, I'm sorry."

"We'll be fine," Ben said, not truly believing it himself. "Meet me at the car." He hung up and left the safety of the arch.

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

Ben stepped out around a corner, his car in sight. He began to unlock the doors when a man stepped from the shadows and approached him. He was older and shorter, but he had an sir of authority about him.

"Hello, Mr. Gates," he said. Ben looked at him, obviously untrusting. Two other men in black suits and sunglasses approached him.

"Mr. Gates, face your father's car and put your hands behind your back, please," one of the men said. The other got onto his walkie-talkie.

"We got one in custody," he radioed. The first man, the eldest of the three shook his head.

"Gates, you're a hard man to find," he said as the men patted him down. They put the glasses on top of the car.

"Could you please be careful?" Ben asked, fearing the glasses would break. At this moment, Riley and Abigail rounded the corner. Upon seeing Ben's glance at them and the situation that was unfolding, they turned and went to a park to think. Ben was now in serious trouble. Abigail paced back and forth as Riley sat on a bench. Abigail tried hard to think of a way to get Ben back with them. Then she had an idea.

"Riley, do you know how to get in touch with Ian?" she asked. Riley looked quite shocked.

"Excuse me?"

**_.N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E._**

_So. That's the end of the chapter. Tell me what you thought in a review. I especially would like feedback on the scene between Rylah and Ian. Did I make that too fluffy? Does it seem too OOC for her to do something like that? Constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated, but no flames please. Now go press that little button down there. It's practically calling your name._

_ERH_


	9. Holy Mackerel!

_I don't have a lot to say about this chapter. It was one of the hardest ones to write for me, but I suppose that's what writing is about, right? Taking risks? I dunno. Ok, so, I hope you enjoy this chapter._

_Shoutouts to **Isayssoccer** and **Crazy Little Emily**_

**

* * *

****Chapter 8: Holy Mackerel!**

* * *

Rylah lay on her stomach, William Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_ in front of her. Her fingers traced the raised dots on the page with ease. She hadn't had her sight for so long that it was second nature to her. Though she couldn't see them, she could vividly imagine the characters, as if they were in the room with her. She read her favorite line aloud. 

"_There is my dagger. And here is my naked breast. Within, a heart dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold. If thou beest a Roman, take it forth. I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart. Strike, as thou didst at Caesar. For I know when thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better than ever thou loved Cassius_," she read, her fingers remaining on the last words for a moment before she let them slide off the page.

Rylah sighed as she placed her bookmark in the well-worn pages. Try as she might to see him otherwise, whenever she imagined Cassius, she imagined him with Ian's face now that she had "seen" him. Cassius was cunning and when things went awry, he seemed to always have a plan B. He was hot-tempered, like Ian, and quick to do rash things. He also never seemed to tell the whole truth. Something malevolent always hid in his words, even though his actions seemed honorable.

She was broken out of her reflections when the phone rang. She jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Yosume's ears pricked up. She groped around on the table for the cordless phone she had placed there not long after Ian had left. She finally found the contraption and answered it.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number," came a woman's voice on the other line. "I'm looking for a Mr. Ian Howe."

"You have the right number. He's stepped out for a little bit. Can I take a message?" she asked, a little concerned that another woman was calling the house. There was a slight pause on the other side of the phone, as if the woman was debating whether or not she wanted to.

"Yes, actually. Can you tell him that Abigail called?" she asked.

"Abigail Chase?" she asked, being the only Abigail she knew. She was going to feel really dumb if it wasn't her. There was a slight pause again.

"How do you know that?" she asked. Rylah laughed nervously.

"Oh, I only know one Abigail."

"Who are you?"

"Rylah Poole," she said. "You called me a taxi at the gala."

"Poole? Any relation to a Riley?" she asked. Rylah was surprised.

"Yes, I had a brother named Riley." There was the sound of a brief scuffle on the other side of the phone and an indignant "HEY!"

"Rylah?" Riley's voice came on the other end. Rylah dropped the phone. It couldn't be…"Rylah? Rylah? You there?" Rylah scrambled for the phone. She picked it up.

"Riley?" she asked. "Riley, I thought you were dead on the Charlotte!"

"Rylah! Are you alright? Has Ian done anything to you?" Riley asked, obviously concerned.

"I'm fine. Ian hasn't done anything to me. He's very nice once you get to know him," she said.

"He's a lying son of a – HEY!" The phone once again switched hands.

"Rylah, tell Ian that we called and we want to make a deal with him," Abigail said.

"I will," she said, quietly. There was another scuffle on the other side of the phone.

"You call me if anything happens, ok?" Riley said.

"Riley, I'm roaming!" Abigail's muffled voice came from the other end of the phone

"Rylah, I promise, I'll call you again," he said before Abigail wrestled the phone from him and hung up. Rylah was quiet for a long moment afterwards, tears coming to her eyes. He was alive. That meant Ian had lied to her all along. She was still crying when she heard the door open.

"Rylah, I'm home," she heard Ian call. The hair on the back of her neck bristled. At this point there was no voice she wanted to hear less.

"Yosume, go to your place," she said quietly. He would only cause issues if he stayed with Ian in the room. Yosume cast her a glance that clearly showed he wanted to stay but he trotted off to his place at the foot of her bed. She listened without calling back to him. She heard his footsteps walking through the rooms.

"Rylah?" he called again, a note of concern in his voice. Rylah stayed rooted to the spot, unable to move. Ian walked into the room. He sighed in relief. "There you are," he said. He walked over and he saw her tears. "What's wrong?" he asked, the concern reappearing in his voice. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them away.

"Don't touch me, Ian," she warned. Ian was a bit taken aback.

"What's wrong?" he asked again. _Why was she being so cold? It wasn't like her._ Rylah tensed, her hands balling into fists.

"I'm giving you one chance to apologize," she said. Ian was confused.

"Apologize? For what?" he asked.

"YOU JERK!" she screamed. "YOU LIED TO ME KNOWINGLY!" Ian looked at Shaw and Powell, who were flanking him on either side. They all had confusion plastered on their faces.

"About what?" he asked.

"About my brother! You told me he was dead!" she snapped. Ian's face went cold and stoic, natural reflex from past girlfriends.

"I told you there was nothing I could do for him, which is true," Ian explained, carefully controlling his temper. This was a volatile situation. He placed an arm around her waist, as it had always had a calming effect before. She shoved him away, granted he didn't move very far as she was so much smaller than him. It was, however, enough to tell Ian he wasn't going to get anywhere. If nothing else, she was stubborn as a mule. She shook her head, obviously getting angrier by the minute.

"Lies, half-truths, they're all the same," she said, starting to cry again. "Everything you told me was a lie."

"That's not true," Ian growled.

"You were never going to take me to the gala," she said with sudden realization.

"No," he answered without hesitation. "I never was, but I did because I knew it was what you wanted." The anger rose in his voice.

"You never gave a damn about what I wanted!" she snapped back.

"YES I DID!" Ian thundered. Rylah shrunk back for a moment, but instantly regained her posture, despite the fact that she was quivering slightly. Ian ran a hand through his hair in frustration and trying to calm his temper. "Bloody hell, Rylah. Don't you understand? Everything I've done has been to protect you."

"I see," she said, though there was a definite edge to her voice. "And I assume that everything you haven't told me has been to protect me too?"

"What are you talking about this time?" he growled.

"I'm talking about your friend Abigail," she spat. "It's not hard to imagine why you were gone for so long at the gala." Where at any other point in the conversation, Ian might have laughed, he was too mad to casually brush it aside.

"Jealous are you?" he asked. She flinched at the edge in his tone. Ian knew it was harsh, but she had irritated him. Shaw would probably give him a guilt trip about it later, but for now he wasn't holding anything back.

"She didn't leave a callback number," she said quietly. "I assume she'll call back." She turned to leave. Ian took two big strides and caught her arm, turning her around. Now her back was to Powell and Shaw. She wrenched her wrist out of Ian's grasp. "Let me by, Ian." She was crying quietly, tears coming down her cheeks. He put a hand on her face and wiped away one of her tears.

"I didn't want to do this," he said. He looked at her face for a moment more before making eye contact with Shaw and Powell, who came up behind Rylah, each taking one of her arms. She struggled, alarmed at the sudden contact. Try as she might, Powell held fast and she could not break Shaw's grip. She felt herself being pulled away from Ian's hand.

"No!" she said, struggling against them. "IAN!" she screamed. Then and there, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long while…

Hate.

* * *

Agent Sadusky held his chin in one hand while he tapped his pen on the desk. Before him were the glasses from Independence Hall and Ben sat chained to a desk. There was an awkward silence after Ben finished recounting the events leading up to his arrest. Sadusky sighed after a few tense moments. 

"That's some story," he said, almost skeptically. Ben sounded agitated.

"Well, it's the same story I tried to tell you guys before the Declaration was stolen," he said, obviously a little put out that he was sitting here chained to a desk while Ian was out there somewhere with the Declaration of Independence. Sadusky raised an eyebrow at this statement.

"By you," he said, just to clear up the point. Ben rolled his eyes.

"No, by Ian. I stole it to stop him. I did it alone. Dr Chase was not involved," he said, as if it were rehearsed and he had said it over and over again. He sighed again and looked at his cuffed hands. "And Ian still ended up with the Declaration of Independence." Sadusky pressed his point home again.

"Because of you." Ben didn't even bother correcting him this time. Sadusky shifted his position. "So here's your options. Door number one: you go to prison for a very long time. Door number two: we are going to get back the Declaration of Independence, you help us find it, and you still go to prison for a very long time, but you feel better inside." Ben looked at him questioningly.

"Is there a door that doesn't lead to prison?" he asked. Sadusky chuckled to himself.

"Someone's got to go to prison, Ben," he said. Ben nodded, Sadusky's answer confirming his suspicions.

"Yeah," Ben said. Sadusky put down the pen and began to play with the different lenses on the glasses in front of him.

"So what are these for?" Sadusky asked.

"It's a way to read the map," Ben replied. Maybe if he cooperated fully, they wouldn't throw him in jail. Sadusky nodded.

"Right. Knights Templar. Freemasons. Invisible treasure map," he said, recalling the key points of Ben's story. He was silent for a moment. "So what'd it say?" he asked quietly.

"'Heere at the wall.' Nothing else," he said, his father's voice ringing in his head. "It's just another clue." He had let down everyone and now the Declaration was in danger. He heard conversations going on around him but did not comprehend what they were saying as he let his own thoughts overwhelm him

"It looks like Ian Howe could be a false identity," one of the agents around him said.

"Follow up with ATF and INS," Sadusky replied. Ben watched Sadusky's hands as he answered the agent. The lenses moved and created different images. He came to a realization, his eyes widening.

"There's more to it," he muttered. Suddenly his cell began to vibrate on the desk. The agents moved into action.

"Standard tap procedure," Sadusky ordered. The agents moved very quickly. "Let's check the signal, folks. Lock it in. Are we set?" he asked.

"Checking source," one of the agents responded. He furrowed his eyebrows when the results came back. "Unknown number." Sadusky nodded to Ben. He hadn't thought that apprehending Ian was going to be that easy, but there was always hope. Ben answered his phone.

"Yes."

"Hello, Ben. How are you?" came Ian's silky voice. It had lost some of the charisma Ben remembered. He sounded frustrated or disappointed or something. Ben found his voice.

"Um, chained to a desk," he said. Sadusky cast him a dirty glance.

"Sorry to hear that," Ian said, not at all sounding sincere. "I want you to meet me on the flight deck of the USS Intrepid. You know where that is?"

"New York," Ben replied.

"Meet me there at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. And bring those glasses you found at Independence Hall," he said. Ben froze. Ian didn't need prompting. He was beginning to pick up a little bit of Rylah's perceptiveness. "Yeah, I know about the glasses." He paused for a moment. "We can take a look at the Declaration and then you can be on your way."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Ben asked, obviously skeptical.

"I told you from the start, I only wanted to borrow it. You can have it. And the glasses," Ian replied. "I'll even throw in the pipe from the Charlotte." Ben looked at Sadusky, who gave him an all clear signal.

"I'll be there," Ben said.

"And tell the FBI agents listening in on this call if they want the Declaration back, and not just a box of confetti, then you'll come alone," Ian said acidly before he hung up.

* * *

"Take positions," Sadusky said into his head set. Agents began to move into place, dressed in the casual clothing. Ben strode onto the deck, looking around, a little on edge. 

"Perimeter looks normal," radioed in a woman from the helicopter.

"Can I get a status report?" Sadusky requested.

"Crow's nest in position. Port side is quiet," one of the agents replied.

"Copy that," another agent replied. "Gates is on the flight deck."

"Eyes on Gates. Do not lose sight of primary mark," Sadusky said.

"I have a visual," the second agent said. Ben seemed to be zoning out as he looked around.

"Gates. Stay with the program," Sadusky said. Ben turned as a troop of boy scouts passed him.

"I hope your agents are all under four feet tall and wearing little scarves," Ben replied. "Otherwise Ian's gonna know they're here." Sadusky rolled his eyes.

"As soon as he shows you the Declaration, we'll move in. Don't try anything. Just let us handle it," he said. Ben shook his head.

"You know, Agent Sadusky," he said, trying to look casual but earning some odd looks from a couple of women leaning on the rail of the deck. "Something I've noticed about fishing: it never works out so well for the bait." Sadusky waited patiently for new information.

"Sir," came a woman's voice. She was the agent in the chopper that was doing some rounds over the ship. "We've got some traffic incoming. Looks like a sightseeing helicopter."

"Unit two, get an eyeball on that chopper. Agent Michaels, get FAA flight plans and authorization records on that craft," he ordered. "If that's not Mr Howe, I want to know who it is." He was getting suspicious and the adrenaline began to work its way into his bloodstream. Something was going to go wrong: he could feel it.

"I got him. He's coming from the north," the woman said.

"Gates. Are you with me?" Sadusky said.

"Well, I'm sure not against you, if that's what you're asking," Ben replied. He looked up at the two helicopters in the air above him. The unidentified aircraft began to lower near the deck. People scrambled to get out of the way of the descending helicopter and the wind caused difficulty in seeing. Suddenly, static clouded conversation on the microphone. One of the agents with Sadusky tapped his headset, making sure it wasn't his equipment malfunctioning.

"We've got some interference on Gates's mike, sir," he said.

"This I know," Sadusky said. _Thank you Captain Obvious _Sadusky thought bitterly. Something was going on down there and he wanted to know what.

_**Meanwhile…**_

"Hello, Ben," Shaw said. Ben looked at him for a moment before looking up at the helicopter again. He didn't want to make this meeting obvious if the agents were still watching him. "Thomas Edison needed only one way to make a light bulb. Sound familiar?" Ben's face went cold for a moment. Shaw continued talking, not knowing how long this distraction was going to last. "Go to the starboard observation point behind the F-16 and here's what you do." After a long set of directions, Shaw immediately left his side.

"Air Tour helicopter, you are in controlled airspace. Vacate immediately!" came a woman's voice on a loudspeaker. The helicopter ascended and left as quickly as it had come.

"Who's got Gates?" Sadusky asked. "All agents, report in."

"I can't see anything," one of the agents admitted.

"Did Gates speak to anybody?" Sadusky asked urgently.

"Target is moving. He's heading towards the stern," another agent radioed in.

"I've got him. He's coming this way," yet another agent said.

"Anyone got a view of our friend Ian Howe?" Sadusky asked.

"No, Ian Howe is not at the stern, sir," the agent replied.

"Then why is he heading there?" Sadusky asked, obviously becoming concerned. He seemed to be walking with a purpose.

"He's at the observation deck," the agent radioed in.

"Sadusky. I'm still not against you. But I found door number three," he said. Sadusky furrowed his brow in confusion. "And I'm taking it."

"What's he talking about?" the agent nearest him asked.

"Move in! Move in! Move in on Gates!" Sadusky said urgently, having figured it out. The agents began to move in on him but Ben was too fast for them. He threw his legs over the railing and jumped from the observation deck to the dark water below. He hit the water with a small splash and sank. He felt a hand on his ankle pulling him down. He came face to face with a diver who held an air mask out to him. He gratefully took it and took a breath. He grabbed on to the contraption that the man was holding onto and they took off, cutting through the dirty water.

* * *

"All teams, move in. Pursue at own risk. I repeat, pursue at own risk," Sadusky commanded. The two agents that had seen him jumped looked at one another. 

"You first."

"Holy mackerel," Sadusky said, running a hand over his face. "He set us up." He sat in thought for a moment. "Agent Dawes, do you have a visual? Can you see Gates in the water?"

"Sir, it's the Hudson. Nothing is visible," she said.

"Smart fish."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed the IanxRylah drama. Tell me what you thought. No flames please. Concrit welcomed and appreciated._

_ERH_


	10. Holding All the Cards

_Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I'm in the middle of the next chapter as we speak. I am very busy at the moment, so shoutouts to all my reviewers from last chapter. Hope you enjoy this one. It's getting close. Any ideas for the title for the second half of the challenge are welcomed._

**

* * *

****Chapter 9: Holding all the Cards**

* * *

Ben climbed out of the water, dripping as he climbed up the ladder onto the sidewalk. The water pooled beneath him as he was met with Shaw's menacing form. He looked up as Shaw watched him climb out. 

"Hello, Ben. Welcome to New Jersey," he said. It wasn't a warm welcome, but rather a mocking one. He got up and Shaw motioned with his head toward a waiting black car. Ben followed him over, where Powell was casually leaning against the trunk. He seemed to jump to attention as he saw Shaw and Ben out of the corner of his eye. He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked to trunk. He pulled a pair of pants, a shirt, and a jacket and closed the trunk again as the two men approached him.

"What'd you do with Abigail and Riley?" Ben asked. Powell shoved the clothes at Ben. At least Ian had the common decency to tell his men to bring some dry clothes for him to change into.

"Hope these fit," Powell said, completely ignoring the question. "We had to guess your sizes." Ben seemed to be getting annoyed.

"I said, what'd you do with Abigail and Riley? He's the only one who could've told you that line about Edison," he growled. Shaw looked at him, obviously a little impatient.

"Did you bring the glasses?" he asked. Ben placed the clothes on the car.

"I don't know. Tell me what's happening here," he said. Shaw turned, getting annoyed with the lack of cooperation from Ben.

"Ask your girlfriend. She's the one calling all the shots now," he replied. "And she won't shut up," he tacked on as an afterthought. Ben chuckled to himself. It certainly sounded like Abigail. He changed under the shelter of the bridge and threw his wet clothes in the trunk. Powell had already climbed into the car by the time Ben had finished changing. Shaw, however, was waiting for him, leaning against the back of the car, but he was not watching Ben. Rather, he was looking out at the ocean. When Ben had approached him, he had gotten up and opened the trunk. Phil, who it seemed had been the guy that had swam with him to New Jersey, had shed his wetsuit and changed as well. He was now waiting a bit impatiently in the driver's seat. Shaw nodded his head towards the backseat of the car. Ben climbed in a bit reluctantly, though he knew he had no other choice. Even though he was slightly taller than Shaw, the younger man could easily take him in a fight. Not to mention the fact that he was outnumbered three to one.

As soon as Phil was given a signal which consisted of a nod from Shaw, the car began to move. He passed rows and rows of tall buildings in the urban areas they traveled through. He passed through rows of neatly aligned and adorned residential houses in the suburbs. He drove past long fields when they came to a rural area. All the while, Ben stared straight ahead wondering what he had gotten himself into.

Suddenly, a cell phone began to ring. Shaw pulled out his cell and answered it.

"Yeah, hello?" Shaw asked. He waited for a brief moment before he handed the phone to Ben. "It's for you." Ben took it cautiously. Was it Ian with more instructions?

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, sweetie. How's your day going?" came Abigail's voice on the other end of the phone. Ben relaxed slightly.

"Uh, interesting, dear," he responded hesitantly. He leaned forward as if to try and escape earshot of Shaw and Powell, which didn't work out very well, but both pretended to be disinterested. "So, what, you're working with Ian now?" he asked.

"It turns out helping someone escape from FBI custody is a criminal act. And he's the only criminal we knew. So we called him and made a deal," she replied simply, as if that solved everything. Ben shifted again.

"Well, you're...you're... you're... you're all right, yeah? I mean you're safe?" he asked, trying to do this without sounding terribly suspicious in front of three of Ian's cronies. He heard Abigail's concern for him in her response.

"Yeah, we both are. Riley's right here, doing something clever with a computer," she said.

"I'm tracking him through the..." Riley's voice sounded distant at first. "Hey!" He clearly now had the phone. "I'm tracking you through the GPS in Shaw's phone." Abigail spoke again.

"They take a turn anywhere we don't want, we'll know it. So don't worry. If Ian tries to double-cross us, we can call the FBI and tell them right where you are. And where to find Ian," she replied, trying to reassure him that he was as safe as he could be traveling with a band of felons.

"And where is that?" Ben asked.

"Right across the street from where we're hiding, at the intersection of Wall Street and Broadway," Abigail answered, a smile coming through in her voice. Ben smiled slightly.

"Well, you figured out the clue," he said. She laughed softly.

"Simple. 'Heere at the wall.' Wall Street and Broadway," she replied. Ben nodded. She was quick to think on her feet. There was a pause that unnerved them both. Abigail spoke again, softly. "Ben, there is a catch. We made Ian believe he could have the treasure. It was the only way we could get this far." She sounded like she was pleading with him to understand. He hung up Shaw's cell as the car slowed down. He understood, but there was no way he was letting Ian get the treasure.

* * *

"He's here," Riley said, peering out the window. Abigail followed his gaze, her hands folded across her chest to keep from biting her fingernails. 

"Here we go."

* * *

Ben stepped out of the car and Ian turned to meet him. He looked concerned and straightened Ben's jacket when he walked over. 

"Ben. You all right? No broken bones? A jump like that could kill a man," he said, sounding completely concerned, as if they were the friends they used to be. Ben nodded.

"Naw, it was cool," he said. "You should try it sometime." Ian laughed at Ben's comment, though he wasn't amused in the slightest. He pulled the pipe from inside his jacket and put the tube containing the Declaration on top of the car. He looked at Ben.

"The Declaration of Independence. And the meerschaum pipe. All yours," he said, showing he had held up his end of the bargain. Ben eyed the items and then looked at him suspiciously.

"That's it?" he asked, unsure if Ian had something up his sleeve. Ian nodded, a crooked smile playing across his features.

"That's it. I knew you'd keep your promise. Now, where is it? Where's my treasure?" he asked, looking around as if it would appear in plain sight if he just happened to catch a glimmer of gold. Ben shrugged.

"It's right here," he said. Ian quirked an eyebrow. He was joking right? Ben instantly switched into teacher mode. "The map said 'Heere at the wall', spelled with two E's. Wall Street follows the path of an actual wall that the original Dutch settlers built as a defense to keep the British out. The main gate was located at a street called De Heere, also two E's. Later De Heere Street was renamed Broadway after the British got in. So," he motioned to the street sign at the corner. "'Heere at the wall.' Broadway, Wall Street. Cheerio." Here he picked up the declaration and the pipe and began to walk away. Ian placed a hand to his head, as though he had a headache.

"Just a moment, Ben," he said casually. Ben turned slowly as he talked.

"Ian, if you break our deal, the FBI will be only a few minutes behind you. You might get away, you might not," he said, seemingly cold. Ian thought he felt a chill. He looked concerned, as if he had been cheated.

"Is that all the map said?" he asked curiously. Ben hesitated for a moment before replying.

"Every word," Ben said, his reply shaky. Ian laughed as he saw right through it.

"Oh, Ben," he said, as if he knew something Ben didn't. He smiled crookedly. "You know the key to running a convincing bluff?" He waited and Ben did not reply. "Every once in a while you've got to be holding all the cards." He turned his gaze to the other side of the street where Viktor was waiting outside a black vehicle. Ben followed his gaze. Viktor opened the back door and Patrick Gates peered out from the open door frame, his hands duct-taped together.

"Dad," he said under his breath. He was never supposed to get involved. Ian nodded once more and Viktor closed the door, opening the front passenger side. Even from the side, Ben could tell who it was: Rylah was sitting with her hands on her lap, also duct-taped. Viktor closed the door after a few moments and Ben turned to face Ian.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Ian asked, a hint of a threat in his voice. Ben sighed in defeat.

"Trinity Church. We have to go inside Trinity Church," he said. Ian nodded, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. He nodded.

"Good. Excellent," he said. He sighed and ran a hand over his chin. "Well, why don't you ask Dr Chase and Riley to join us? I'm sure they're around here somewhere." He seemed to look directly at their hiding spot, as if he knew they were there all along.

* * *

_Hope y'all liked and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. Please review, but don't flame. Flames aren't nice. They almost blew up Riley and Ben and Ian and Shaw...well...yes...you get the picture._

_ERH_


	11. A Not So Happy Reunion

_Howdy. I'm back with another chapter (even if it has taken forever). I'm currently about halfway through the next chapter, so it should be up over Martin Luther King Day Weekend, but don't quote me on that. I'm having so much fun with this. I have a question for y'all though at the end of the chapter._

_SHOUTOUTS: Special thanks to WalkingInMemphis, Phantom Creedy Lover, TheSongOfNature, Isayssoccer, GreenLightsaber Girl, and Aljinon. Without them, there would be no next chapter, as I would have been sad LOL. _

_Oh, and Phantom Creedy Lover, I try my best to come up with witty ways to say don't flame me LOL. Just Kidding. I had just watched it and it seemed like a good idea at the time._

_Without further ado, the next chapter (it's coming to the end of the first installment)._

* * *

**Chapter 10: A Not So Happy Reunion**

* * *

Rylah placed her head on her knees, not that that was easy with her hands being duct-taped, but it was how she thought. Behind her, she could hear the breathing of an unfamiliar man who had been brought along for the same reason she had. They were two peas in a pod. Both were at the mercy of their "captors" as both were in a hostage position. Powell stood next to Viktor outside Rylah's closed window and she could hear their low mutterings, though she couldn't discern what they were saying. Viktor was enjoying a cigarette as they loitered around, seemingly waiting for something. 

For the first time since the incident on the Charlotte, Rylah began to feel afraid. The fact that she had been with Ian for so long had stopped her from being afraid because she felt safe with Ian, confident that he would let nothing happen to her. This time, it was different. Ian was the danger that she was facing. One wrong move from her comrades, her brother even, could be the difference between life and death for her and this unfamiliar man. This was out of her hands. He breathing began to speed up. That was when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be alright," he said. "Ben won't let anything happen." Rylah took comfort in the man's words.

"Thank you, sir," she said.

"Call me Patrick. Sir makes me feel old," he said. She was so like a child. Her slight figure and her reaction to fear reminded Patrick of when he used to baby-sit his older sister's daughter. She nodded and returned to her thoughts. It wasn't too long after that when Patrick was taken from the car and across the street to the car where Ben, Ian, Shaw, and McGregor were waiting. Rylah was alone. She felt sick. She tapped on the windows to get the attention of Viktor and Powell. Her door opened.

"Wha' is it?" Powell's deep accent answered.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said quietly, her face turning an alarming shade of green. Powell wasted no time in removing the duct-tape from her hands and helping her into the restaurant nearest them. He walked her to the bathroom and let her go, walking back to the front of the restaurant.

_**Meanwhile**_

Rylah walked over to one of the sinks and breathed deeply. She was trying to get rid of the nauseating feeling that came with being in a situation she had no control over. She walked over to one of the stalls and located the toilet before she emptied her stomach of breakfast. She didn't feel much better afterwards, but at least she didn't feel like she could be nauseous again. She scrounged up what she could of her dignity and walked out again, going over to the sink to wash her face. Things were turning into even more of a nightmare.

"Rylah?" she heard a woman ask. Her head popped up at the sudden intrusion into her thoughts.

"Yes?" she replied.

"It's me, Abigail, from the gala," the other woman replied. Rylah suddenly became paler than she already was.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"They're looking for you, you and Riley…" Rylah replied.

"Who?"

"Ian and the rest of them…they have Ben…" she said.

"We know," she said.

"You do?" she asked, puzzled.

"That's why we called Ian, to help get him out of jail," she said.

"But they're looking for you too," she said. "They have Ben's father."

"Well, it's only a matter of time before they find us anyway," Abigail said as she opened the door for Rylah to step out. "Lead the way."

* * *

"Are you all right?" Ben whispered to his father as they walked down the aisle of Trinity Church. Patrick Gates rolled his eyes. 

"What do you think? I'm a hostage." Shaw placed a hand on Patrick's shoulder and brought him to a halt.

"Sit. Sit down," he said, ushering Patrick into a pew. Ben turned on Ian.

"Let him go, Ian," Ben growled.

"When we find the treasure," he said. He was back in full control of the situation and he was determined to keep a level head.

"No, now. Or you can figure out the clues for yourself," Ben replied, shoving the Declaration of Independence at him and handing him the glasses. Ian looked at the objects in his hands and then back at Ben, tossing his head to rid himself of a strand of hair that hung annoyingly in his eyes.

"Ben. I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation," he said as the doors to the back of the church opened. Ben turned and watched as Powell walked in, followed by Abigail and Riley, who had an arm around Rylah's shoulder and was talking quietly with her, as if trying to calm her. Viktor was the last one in and the shut the heavy doors behind them. Ben looked at Ian, silently glaring at him and imagining his death in a thousand different ways. Ian seemed tired at this point. "Let's have a look at that map," he said, motioning for Ben to follow him into one of the pews. Ian removed the Declaration from its protective wrapping and unrolled it as Ben put on the glasses. His eyes lit up.

"It's...It's... it's really quite something. It's...It really is remarkable. Take a look," he said, giving the glasses to Ian. Ian looked at it and flipped the lenses on the glasses in an attempt to see everything the document had to offer.

"'Parkington Lane,'" he said quietly.

"'Beneath Parkington Lane,'" Ben corrected. Ian leaned back and took off the glasses.

"But why would the map lead us here, then take us somewhere else? What's the purpose?" he wondered aloud.

"Just another clue," Patrick offered from the pew.

"Dad," Ben scolded. Patrick threw up his hands in frustration. His voice had always fallen on deaf ears when he talked about the treasure. "No, you're right. Parkington Lane has to be here somewhere," Ben continued, talking to Ian.

"A street inside the church?" Ian sounded skeptical.

"Not inside. Beneath. Beneath the church," Ben said with sudden inspiration.

"So we need to go to the basement?" he asked. Ben shrugged.

"Shaw, Powell, Viktor, McGregor," he said, each man's head popping up as his name was called. "Escort our guests here to the basement." He nodded toward a door near the front of the room. Everyone immediately began to move. Ian led the pack, followed by Ben, Patrick and Shaw. McGregor closely tailed Abigail. Riley and Rylah followed them and Viktor and Powell brought up the rear. They weren't taking any chances.

"I'm so sorry, Ben," Abigail apologized as Ben held the door open for the others to pass through.

"None of this is your fault," he said.

"I co..."

"Come on," McGregor said, roughly pushing her forward. She glared at him and continued moving. Ben moved up and resumed his place next to his father as they walked down the stairs.

"Look," Patrick began. "Cooperation only lasts as long as the status quo is unchanged. As soon as this guy gets to wherever this thing ends, he won't need you any more. Or... or any of us." Ben looked at his father.

"So we find a way to make sure the status quo changes in our favor," he said.

"How?" Patrick asked. Ben hesitated for a moment.

"I'm still working on it," he admitted. Patrick sighed.

"Well, I guess I better work on it too, then." By this point they had reached the bottom of the stairs and were inside a room with crypts lining the walls. Riley walked around, leaving Rylah standing next to Ben, whom he was sure would keep her safe. He looked at the tombs lining the walls. His eyes fell on a familiar name.

"Hey! Par... Hey, I found it! Him!" Immediately everyone rushed over to see what Riley was talking about. Rylah stumbled shyly after them, her hand out to the side to avoid hitting any walls or objects.

"Ben!" Ian said. Ben walked over and fingered the cold stone. "It's a name," Ian remarked. How simple things were when you knew the answer. Ben looked closely at the carvings on the slab.

"Parkington Lane. He was a third-degree master mason of the Blue Lo...Hey! Stop!" he jumped out of the way as McGregor came at him with a hammer. However, Ben was not the intended target. The sound of stone breaking filled the room and Rylah's heart began to flutter at Ben's surprised tone.

"What's going on?" she asked. Shaw came up and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.

"Everything's alright," he said softly. "Ian won't let anything happen to you. Or any of us." Rylah was not convinced. She heard quiet murmurings over who would help get the giant stone coffin out of the tomb.

"Shaw!" Powell snapped. Shaw's hand left her shoulder and she heard him walk away. She felt alone again. This time Abigail came up next to her. This did not comfort Rylah, however, as when she did that, she shrieked due to the bottom of the coffin falling out to reveal the late Parkington Lane. She heard Powell's sarcastic laughter.

"Careful no one steps in him," he said.

"All right, put it down," Ian replied. They placed the coffin on the floor. The sound of bones breaking and stone on stone were foreign noises to Rylah and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear at least one of them again. She felt herself ushered forward (if she were to venture a guess, it was Viktor) and felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She wasn't sure whose.

"OK. Who wants to go down the creepy tunnel inside the tomb first?" Riley asked. Rylah's mind immediately jumped to the incident on the Charlotte. Ian cleared his throat.

"Right. McGregor, Viktor, you stay here. And if anyone should come out without me, well... use your imagination," he said. Viktor and McGregor nodded. "Shaw, you will come down after Rylah, help her down." Shaw nodded at his orders. "Shall we?" he asked, not that any of them had much of a choice. He and Ben began to climb down. Rylah felt the hand leave her shoulder and she stepped forward, searching for the hole in the wall.

"You got a light?" she heard Ben say as she began to crawl through.

"Watch it!" Shaw warned. She immediately stopped and fingered the space around her. She found the edge of the ledge.

"Where do I go?" she asked softly to Shaw.

"Keep going forward," Ian responded.

"Are you crazy?" she asked, starting to feel claustrophobic. "I'm supposed to jump when I can't even see what's at the bottom? Are you off your rocker?"

"Trust me," Ian said. She wasn't sure if she could. Yet something inside of her still clung to the faith she once had in him. He wasn't malicious and he hadn't let anything happen to her yet. Why would he start now? With a moment's hesitation, she put her feet out in front of her and slid off the ledge. She felt herself being caught around the waist and lowered a small distance to the ground. It had been a small drop, but all the same, her heart was pounding. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" She bowed her head as she heard Shaw climbing down something and coming to stand behind her. Ian looked at Rylah and debated on what to do next. After a brief internal deliberation, Ian nodded his head in the direction going deeper into the secret labyrinth.

Slowly, the group began to move down the hall. Rylah took deliberate steps, as if she had calculated (or miscalculated) her every step. She stumbled on the uneven floor, where the ground had risen up or sunk down, and fell multiple times, scuffing her hands and staining her jeans with dirt of ages past. Each time she fell, she refused help. Thus, the journey to the central cavern seemed agonizingly slow. At long last, Ian got fed up with the slow progress they were making. He walked over to where Rylah was searching with her foot for another sturdy place to step. Without a word of warning, he bent over and picked Rylah up, one hand supporting her back and the other under her knees. Rylah was frightened at the sudden change in her position and yelped in surprise. She immediately grabbed for support and locked her arms over Ian's neck until she was sure she wasn't going to fall out of his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Making your life easier, and mine," Ian muttered in return. Rylah removed her arms from around his neck and folded them over her chest, but she made no more protest. At last they came to a large room with an astounding system of paths, stairs, elevators, rooms, and a large wooden structure tethered to a rail. Ian set Rylah on her feet and steadied her. She held out a hand and brushed against the wooden railing, feeling her way along until she came to a post with a large amount of rope tied around it. She cautiously leaned forward and her hand found the large wooden structure.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a chandelier," Ben answered, in awe of what they had found. Ian grabbed a torch from Powell and held it out to Ben.

"Here." Ben took the torch and held it out to the gunpowder-laden chandelier. Instantly, the black powder caught flame and illuminated the surrounding area. They were at the top of what seemed to be an endless spiral of stairs and caverns that branched off from where they were.

"Wow," Ben said in the silence. "Look at the elevators." If there had ever been a time where Rylah wanted her sight back more than this, she couldn't think of it.

"A dumbwaiter system," she heard Patrick remark. From farther behind her, she heard Powell comment.

"How do a bunch of guys with hand tools build all this?" He asked, even more in awe than Ben or Patrick or even Ian. Ben turned to Powell.

"Same way they built the pyramids and the Great Wall of China," he replied.

"Yeah," Riley said, putting a hand on Rylah's shoulder and knowing how much she was missing her sight at the moment. "The aliens helped them." Rylah elbowed Riley, not too hard though. He laughed and ruffled her hair.

"Right, let's go. What are we waiting for?" Ian asked, motioning to the stairs.

* * *

_There you have it. You all know what's coming. There will be a little Rylah and Ian interaction, moreso than this chapter. Oh, I also had a question. I recently ran across the 100 themes/moods/songs/etc. challenges and I was wondering who would be interested in seeing one in the National Treasure category. I might possibly write one and I was curious as to how big the audience would be. _

_Anyway, please review and let me know what you think. Please no flames though. Flashlights work better. CC welcomed and appreciated._

_ERH_


	12. All the Way to China

_Hey, sorry about the tardiness. I know I promised to have this up over Martin Luther King Weekend, but I got really busy and it's been a little hectic. Only 2 or 3 more chapters and then the sequel! Wow. Anyway..._

_SHOUTOUT to Aljinon and cike. Thank you for your review. This chapter's for you guys._

_FYI, in this chapter, I've changed the scene a little. I hope it doesn't ruin it for the canon fanatics. And there's some Rylah/Ian interaction as well. Without further ado, the chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 11: All the Way to China**

* * *

There was a pause, filled with tension and silence. Rylah reached a hand out for someone. Ian, being nearest her placed an arm around her waist. She shuddered slightly, but did not protest. At least she knew someone was beside her. Finally, Patrick spoke. 

"I'm not going out on that thing. Years of termite damage and rot…" he began, his voice unsure, as if he wasn't sure his argument would hold up. Ben shook his head.

"Dad, do what he says," Ben said. Patrick gave Ben a look before he began his descent. He held his hand out to help Rylah down from the front as Ian followed close behind.

"Watch your step. We're right under the Trinity graveyard. That's probably why no one ever found this," Patrick remarked. Suddenly, dust began to fall from the ceiling and roots quaked with the sudden movement. Rylah buried her face in Ian's jacket.

"What is that?" she asked. Ian pondered the question for a moment.

"Subway," he replied. Rylah was puzzled. How much lower could the cavern go than the subway? And how could the founding fathers have known that in the future there would be trains, much less subways? Without thinking, Rylah took a step forward. Her foot plunged through the rotting wood and she shrieked as she began to fall through the hole. As a reflex, Ian's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, his other hand coming around to get a better grip. She was shaking in his grip, loosening it even without intending to.

"Rylah! Oh, God, Rylah!" Riley said as he watched the scene unfold in slow motion.

"Shaw!" Ian hissed through his teeth, doing his best to keep her in his grip. She wasn't exceedingly heavy, but she wasn't exactly a feather either, and he wasn't in a position to pull her up, so the most he could do was prevent her from falling down the endless chasm.

"Don't let go, Ian," she pleaded as she felt his grip adjusting to get a better hold. Shaw and Riley both rushed forward. Shaw took her other arm and assisted Ian in pulling her up to the platform.

"Oh, my God," she breathed as she felt solid ground beneath her feet again. She sat there, her arms wrapping around Ian as she trembled, still very frightened. Riley placed a hand on her back and gently rubbed her back. It was something their mother did when they got scared or upset back when they were kids. This had little effect, as the platform groaned and came loose from its supports slightly.

"Hold on! Hold on!" Ben said. Ian looked around and saw a large elevator just a little ways off the platform.

"OK, get on the elevator. Jump!" Ian ordered. Powell was the first across and Patrick tossed the torch across to him before he jumped. Riley jumped to the platform next. Abigail and Ben had dropped a level and were swinging precariously below them. Shaw jumped over, nearly falling off, but regaining his balance. Ian looked at Rylah. "Do you trust me?" he asked. She was silent. "Rylah! Do you trust me?" he asked again, more urgently. Who knew how long the platform was going to hold. She nodded wordlessly, visibly shaking. He made eye contact with Shaw. He placed a hand on either side of her waist. "When I get to three, I want you to jump."

"I can't," she whispered, as nothing more would come out.

"Rylah! You can if you trust me!" he growled. "One…two…three!" He pushed Rylah forward as she jumped, assisting her in getting across the gap. Shaw and Powell were there to catch Rylah. She immediately shied away from them and sought out Riley, who put a protective arm around her shoulder. Ian prepared himself to jump when the platform came fully loose from the wall. He launched as best he could and landed with his elbows supporting him on the platform while he dangled. Patrick and Shaw helped him up.

"Man," Riley said, "you almost fell all the way to China." Ian glared at Riley.

"Thank you for that _profound _insight, Riley," Ian said, venomous sarcasm dripping from his words. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. He brushed himself off and looked around. His eyes darted to Abigail as she fell onto a ledge lower down.

"Get down there!" Patrick shouted, seeing them as well. Powell lowered the mechanism and it seemed to move in slow motion. They got down far enough to prevent Ben from falling to his death. Rylah reached for the edge of the elevator.

"Ben? Abigail?" she asked. "Ben, are you guys alright?" She hadn't heard him talking in awhile.

"Yes, Rylah, we're fine," he yelled up. He turned to Abigail in the hopes of explaining. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dropped you. I had to save the Declaration." Abigail shook her head.

"No, don't be. I would have done exactly the same thing to you," she said. Ben looked at her for a moment, trying to comprehend her words.

"Really?" he asked as the elevator neared them. Riley scoffed.

"I would have dropped you both. Freaks," he said, earning a smile from Rylah. Ian looked at them impatiently.

"Get on," he commanded. Despite having been so close to Ian in the past, Rylah shivered at the menacing tone in his voice. Gone was the charisma that usually lingered, even when he was angry.

"Ian..." Ben said, trying to placate him. He shook his head. "It's not worth it."

"We go on," Ian growled. Patrick looked at Ben, but was unable to hold his gaze.

"The status quo. Keep the status quo," he whispered. Ian looked at Patrick, but let it slide. Who knew what they were talking about? Ben climbed slowly onto the elevator, joining his father and Patrick behind Shaw and Powell. Rylah clutched Riley with the air of a small child afraid of the dark. He tousled her hair like he used to do when they were kids. The elevator continued downwards into the seemingly endless pit. At last, Powell stopped the mechanism. The elevator jerked alarmingly and everyone stayed still until the elevator settled with a groan. Shaw threw a rope towards a jutting post. He managed to get it around the post and pulled the elevator close to the ledge. He stepped off and tied the elevator so it remained steady as the passengers departed. He held out a hand to help Abigail off and reached for Rylah's hand until Riley's glare made him shrug and withdraw his hand.

Ian led the way down the passageway. He knew no one would dare leave without him after what he had said to Phil and Viktor before. Ben and Patrick followed with Abigail, Rylah, and Riley close behind. Shaw and Powell brought up the rear. They walked into a small room with many stone engravings decorating the otherwise plain walls. Patrick walked over and lit the lantern that hung in the middle of the room. All around hung cobwebs that were thick as veils. Ian looked around as everyone investigated. Rylah hung back, knowing that she wasn't going to be of any use to anyone so long as they were searching. Ian walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off.

"Go away Ian," she growled.

"Rylah," he said, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. She flinched at his touch. "Rylah, please believe me when I say that I didn't want to do this to you. Come with me." The last part was no more than a whisper.

"No," Rylah said, her voice steady. "My place is with my brother and Ben and Abigail. They won't lie to me." He straightened, saddened by her response.

"So be it," he said, turning and walking away. She felt her body shudder involuntarily. It was as if all the fear she had been holding back when he talked to her was releasing now.

"Now what?" Ian asked, his tone harsh. Ben looked around, obviously bewildered and surprised.

"This is...This is where it all leads," he said quietly. Ian approached Ben menacingly.

"What is this?" he asked, disgusted that he had wasted his time if this was where it all ended. "So where's the treasure?" He waited and Ben shifted uncomfortably. "Well?"

"This is it? We came all this way for a dead end?" Riley asked, just as surprised as Ben was.

"Yes," Ben said, his voice quiet. Riley shook his head.

"There's gotta be something more," he said.

"Riley, there's nothing more," Ben said, his voice slightly louder.

"Another clue, or..."

"No!" Ben yelled, startling Rylah. "There are no more clues! That's it, OK? It's over! End of the road. The treasure's gone. Moved. Taken somewhere else." He seemed close to tears. All the disappointment. Despite having been separated from them for most of the journey, she felt his disappointment as much as if it had been she who had proposed the quest for the founding father's treasure. Ian took another step forward, drawing himself up to his full height. His imposing stature made him look quite intimidating.

"You're not playing games with me, are you, Ben?" he asked, all trace of compassion gone from his voice. Instead it was replaced by icy venom that seared through the words. "Hm? You know where it is." Ben looked at Ian, holding his gaze for only a moment.

"No," he said. It was the complete truth. Ian knew it. He looked over his shoulder casually at Powell and Shaw.

"OK, go."

* * *

_Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. This time I'm not promising anything in the way of post dates LOL. Drop me a line, but no flames please. Constructive Criticism welcomed and appreciated. _

_ERH _


	13. Traitor!

_Hello! I'm back with another installment of Blind Faith. I'm quite excited. Blind Faith is drawing to a close and a sequel will not be far off. Any clever ideas for a title? I hope that the ending will not disappoint. _

_SHOUTOUTS to Aljinon, daisyduke80, Isayssoccer, and Raging Raven. This chapter is for you guys!_

_This is very close to the movie, but the last chapter will be better, I promise. I will not post the last chapter of Blind Faith until I have the first chapter of the sequel written. So until then, here's the chapter._**

* * *

**

**Chapter 12: Traitor!**

* * *

It took everyone a good few seconds to register what he said. By the time the crew had recovered, Ian and his men were a good halfway down the hall. The head start was all they needed. By the time everyone got to the end of the hallway, Ian, Powell, and Shaw had all jumped onto the elevator and they were rising above them.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Ben shouted at him.

"Hey! Ian, wait!" Abigail cried.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Riley shouted, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Ian..." Rylah said quietly. Ian looked down at her as Powell stopped the elevator. "We'll be trapped." Ian looked away, not wanting to deal with the guilt this was going to give him, especially from Rylah. "Please, don't do this."

"You can't just leave us here." Riley said. Ian looked at him, daring him to say it again.

"Yes, I can. Unless Ben tells me the next clue," he growled.

"There isn't another clue," Ben said for the umpteenth time since their arrival. He was getting annoyed with the fact that no one was listening to him. Riley, ever trying to be the diplomat, put his two cents in.

"Ian, why don't you come back down here and we can talk through this together?" he asked. Ian ran a hand through his hair and grabbed Powell's gun, cocking it.

"Don't speak again," he said, leveling the gun at Riley. Shaw looked nervous at this sudden shift of Ian's mood. He was volatile now and things could go bad. He looked ready to tackle Ian if things went bad.

"OK," Riley said, obviously nervous. Rylah latched onto him. She knew, or at least she hoped, that Ian wouldn't hurt her as much as he hated Riley. Ian shifted his weight to the other foot and looked at Ben expectantly.

"The clue. Where's the treasure?" he demanded, eyes flashing dangerously. Ian leveled the gun with Ben's heart. Riley's eyes grew quite large as he hugged his sister protectively.

"Ben," Riley warned. Shaw stepped in front of Ian forcing the gun down.

"Ian, that's enough," Shaw said. Ian glared at Shaw, something the group had never seen.

"I have not come this far to fail," Ian growled. Shaw remained where he was, knowing full well that he could take Ian if it came to that. Ian, however, looked at Ben over Shaw's shoulder. "Where is it?" he demanded once again, losing his patience.

"The lantern!" Patrick burst out. All eyes turned to him. Ben looked at his father, disappointed.

"Dad..." Patrick silenced him with a look.

"The status quo has changed, son," he said. Ian was so intent on hearing what Patrick had to say that he failed to notice the flicker of uncertainty that went through both father and son's eyes. "It's part of freemason teachings. In King Solomon's temple there was a winding staircase. It signified the journey that had to be made to find the light of truth. The lantern is the clue." Ian moved Shaw out of his way.

"And what does it mean?" he asked. Ian waited impatiently for a few brief moments before Ben let out a sigh of defeat.

"Boston. It means Boston," Ben answered.

"The Old North Church in Boston, where Thomas Newton hung a lantern in the steeple, to signal Paul Revere that the British were coming. One if by land, two if by sea. One lantern. Under the winding staircase of the steeple, that's where we have to look," Patrick explained. Ian smirked, knowing he had won.

"Thank you," he said. Patrick was baffled as the platform began to move up.

"Hey, you have to take us with you," he protested. Ian's eyes smoldered as he responded icily.

"Why? So you can escape in Boston?" It was a fair accusation, at least in Ian's eyes. "Besides, with you out of the picture there's less baggage to carry," he tacked on as an afterthought.

"What if we lied?" Patrick asked.

"Did you?" Ian asked, raising the gun again. Patrick's heart began to race. Having his son tape him to a chair was one thing, but it wasn't everyday that he was on the receiving end of a gun.

"What if there's another clue?" Ben asked, shifting attention away from his father. Ian gave a half-chuckle at the naïve question.

"Then I'll know right where to find you," he replied. "See you, Ben." He nodded at Powell, who set the elevator into motion, ignoring the protests of his former colleagues. They yelled up to Ian until the elevator had disappeared out of sight. Riley sighed.

"We're all gonna die," he said. Rylah wriggled away from him and hit him on the arm.

"Don't you dare talk like that!" she growled.

"It's gonna be OK, Riley. I'm sorry I yelled at you," Ben said as he ran back into the room with the lantern. Patrick was on his heels.

"It's OK, kiddo," he said, brushing by them hastily. Riley followed them along with a perplexed Abigail. Rylah used a hand to find the wall of the corridor leading into the room.

"OK, boys, what's going on? The British came by sea. It was two lanterns, not one," Abigail said, as if she had missed something.

"Ian needed another clue, so we gave it to him," Patrick said.

"It was a fake?" Rylah asked, astonished that Ian wouldn't pick up on something like that. "It was a fake clue?!" she repeated, alarmed that Ben had sent Ian possibly into the waiting arms of the cops.

"That means... by the time Ian figures it out and comes back here, we'll still be trapped, and he'll shoot us then," Riley said, his excitement at the fake clue waning as he followed his thought process through to the end. "Either way, we're gonna die."

"Ian wouldn't do something like that," Rylah said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Right now she didn't know what to think of Ian. Ben smiled as he found something interesting on the wall.

"She's right. Nobody's gonna die," he said. Riley looked at him as if he were completely crazy. "There's another way out."

"Where?" Riley asked.

"Through the treasure room," Ben replied with a twinkle in his eye. With that, he pushed on a loose stone and a blast of stale air filled the small room. Rylah wrinkled her nose as Patrick and Ben pushed the stone against more stone. Ben jumped through a hole that had opened up in the side of the wall.

"Here," Patrick said as he crawled through, handing Ben the torch. The light in Ben's eyes flickered and slowly began to die as he moved the torch around and found that nothing but bare stone greeted him. Abigail and Riley had moved through the hole and Rylah was fumbling through. She pulled herself through and stumbled forward. She got up and brushed herself off, something she did out of habit rather than necessity.

"Riley?" she asked. "Riley, what's wrong?"

"Looks like someone got here first," he whispered to her, disappointment in his words.

"I'm sorry, Ben," Abigail said, the disappointment evident in her voice as well.

"It's gone," Ben said, completely flabbergasted.

"Listen, Ben..." his father began, but Ben continued like he was the only person in the room. His spirit could be seen going out while the realization of how long it could have been gone hit him hard.

"It may have even been gone before Charles Carroll told the story to Thomas Gates," he said as if this had never occurred to him before. Rylah sat down against the wall, frustration evident on her face.

"It doesn't matter," Patrick said.

"I know. Cos you were right," Ben replied.

"No, I wasn't right," Patrick said. "This room is real, Ben. And that means the treasure is real. We're in the company of some of the most brilliant minds in history, because you found what they left behind for us to find and understood the meaning of it. You did it, Ben. For all of us. Your grandfather, and all of us." He walked over and put his hand on Ben's shoulder. "And I've never been so happy to be proven wrong." Ben shook his head.

"I just...really thought I was gonna find the treasure," he said, like a petulant child.

"OK, then we just keep looking for it," Patrick said, trying to rekindle the hope of finding it.

"I'm in," Abigail said. Rylah shrugged.

"When God shuts a door, He opens a window," Rylah said. "Let's give this thing a second try."

"OK," Ben said. Riley cleared his throat.

"Not to be Johnny Rain Cloud here, but that's not gonna happen. Because as far as I can see, we're still trapped down here," he said.

"Way to ruin the moment, Riley," Rylah said.

"Yeah," Abigail chirped in a friendly jest.

"Now, Ben, where is this other way out?" Riley asked. If there was one, shouldn't it be right in front of them? Ben sighed (never a good sign).

"Well, that's it. It doesn't make any sense, because the first thing the builders would have done after getting down here was cut a secondary shaft back out for air...and in case of cave-ins…" Ben trailed off and walked over to the wall on the other side of the room. He ran his fingers over an indentation on the rock carved to fit the pipe, which he pulled out of his pocket and flipped over in his hand. "Could it really be that simple?" He placed the pipe into the indentation where it fit like a glove. "The secret lies with Charlotte." He turned it and a door opened on the other side of the room, sending another blast of stale air into the room. Rylah stood up, wondering what was going on. Ben stepped through first, his eyes glowing. They had found it. Artifacts from Egypt and Rome and Medieval Europe were stacked against the walls and so far out that there was only a small area of space that was used as a path. Rylah walked in behind Ben.

"What is it?" she asked. Abigail followed them in and gasped as she looked at the wall to her right. What looked like a wine cellar rack was filled with scrolls. She reached out and touched one as if to make sure it was real.

"Scrolls from the library at Alexandria. Could this be possible?" she asked. Riley too had found a treasure that intrigued him.

"It's a big... bluish-green man, with a strange-looking goatee. I'm guessing that's significant," he said, hugging the statue in front of him. Ben walked forward and inspected the pillar in front of him. Inside was gunpowder. Intrigued, he lit it with the torch, as if it were some ritual. Immediately, the fire spread downwards and through what seemed like an endless cavern of treasure. Ben's face immediately lit up.

"Yes!" he shouted and the whooping and hollering began in celebration. Riley took Rylah by the hands and spun her around. She wobbled uncertainly, but grinned.

"Riley, describe it to me," she said, closing her eyes.

"Well…I can't really. It's absolutely breathtaking…stunning. There's treasure wall to wall. And the room is huge, probably about the size of a good sized cathedral," Riley tried to explain.

"Is it everything that you hoped it would be?" she asked.

"That and more," Riley replied. She hugged him, her face brushing up against his. His cheeks were wet.

"Riley, are you crying?" she asked, confused. He sighed.

"Look. Stairs," he said. Rylah giggled. Ben, Abigail, and Patrick began to pick their way over to the stairs. Riley stayed with his sister as she picked her way through the maze of treasure over towards the stairs. She fell only once when the ground suddenly jutted at a weird angle. She hit the ground and her hand hit something hard. She grabbed it and got up again, shoving it in her pocket before continuing towards the stairs. At the top, Ben stopped them and broke through a layer of stone. They were in the same room in which they had begun their descent. A man was looking at the coffin they had pulled out before.

"Hi," Ben said, coughing to clear the dust from his lungs. "Do you have a cell phone I could borrow?"

* * *

_And so ends another chapter. You can tell I'm ending it cuz it's getting all sappy...or is it? Drop me a line and let me know what you think. No flames please. Constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated._


	14. Blind Faith

_At last, the final installment of Blind Faith. But fear not, the first chapter of the sequel "See No Evil" is up. Thank you to everyone who read this one and I hope you continue on to the next on. _

_Shoutouts to Isayssoccer, Raging Raven, and TheSongOfNature._

_Without further ado...the itty bitty finale._

* * *

**Chapter 13: Blind Faith**

**

* * *

The church was eerily quiet as Ben waited for Sadusky. Two FBI agents had already talked to them and escorted Abigail, Patrick, Riley, and Rylah to a pew in the middle of the church. The doors to the church creaked open and Sadusky stepped through onto the carpeted aisle of the church. His footsteps echoed unsympathetically within the confines of the sanctuary. He stopped in front of Ben, who held out the tube holding the Declaration of Independence to him. Sadusky took it warily and unscrewed the lid. He slid out the Declaration and looked at Ben.**

"Just like that?" he asked. Ben shrugged.

"Just like that," he said. Sadusky shook his head.

"You do know you just handed me your biggest bargaining chip?" he asked. Ben's eyes said everything.

"The Declaration of Independence is not a bargaining chip. Not to me," he said sagely. Sadusky sat down on the steps of the altar and looked up at Ben.

"Have a seat," he said. Ben did so, sitting down nervously. He just wanted to get this over with. "So what's your offer?" Sadusky asked conversationally. Ben sighed.

"How about a bribe?" Sadusky raised an eyebrow. "Say...ten billion dollars?" He smiled.

"I take it you found the treasure?" he said simply. Ben looked down at his shoes.

"It's about five stories beneath your shoes," Ben told him.

"You know," Sadusky began. Ben looked up and noticed the ring on Sadusky's hand. It bore the same symbol as the cipher on the Declaration and the brick from Independence hall and everything else that had helped them along on their journey. "The Templars and the Freemasons believed that the treasure was too great for any one man to have, not even a king. That's why they went to such lengths to keep it hidden."

"That's right," Ben said. "The Founding Fathers believed the same thing about government. And I figure their solution will work for the treasure too. Give it to the people. Divide it amongst the Smithsonian, the Louvre, the Cairo museum...There's thousands of years of world history down there. And it belongs to the world, and everybody in it." Sadusky laughed.

"You really don't understand the concept of a bargaining chip," he noted. Ben sighed.

"OK, here's what I want. Dr Chase gets off completely clean, not even a little Post-it on her service record," he started.

"OK."

"I want the credit for the find to go to the entire Gates family, with the assistance of Mr. Riley Poole and Miss Rylah Poole," he continued.

"And what about you?" Sadusky asked.

"I'd really love not to go to prison. I can't even begin to describe how much I would love not to go to prison," Ben said. Sadusky shook his head.

"Someone's got to go to prison, Ben," Sadusky said. He had said that before. Now Ben had something he could work with. His eyes flashed mischievously.

"Well, if you've got a helicopter, I think I can help with that," Ben said.

* * *

Rylah walked into the empty house she had shared with many men she thought honorable until now. She didn't know what to think of them now. She had promised only to stay a few minutes to pick up her things to go back to Riley's apartment, but now that she was here, she didn't want to leave. She whistled and Yosume came trotting over. She bent down and Yosume licked her face.

"Bedroom," she commanded. Yosume allowed her to grab hold of his harness before leading her up the stairs and into the bedroom she had used. She let go of Yosume's harness and he sat obediently. She stretched out her hand and looked for the nightstand where she kept two books and her walkman. Finding the nightstand, she bent down and felt under the bed for the duffel bag she kept there, which she pulled out and put her books and walkman in. She felt to the edge of her bed and moved to her dresser. She pulled out most of her clothes (she would come back for the rest of them later) and put them in the bag. She felt across the top for the two rings and the necklace that were orderly put there. Upon finding the necklace, she felt something soft. Intrigued, she moved her fingers over the surface of the object. After a minute or two, she figured out it was a small stuffed dog with a bag attached to the front of it. Off the left arm hung a tag. She fingered the tag and found that there were raised bumps: Braille. It read:

_Rylah,_

_I am sorry for everything. I hope we meet again. I hope that you will forgive me for the deceit I put you through, but it was all to keep you safe._

_Ian_

_P.S. The bag is treats for Yosume._

Rylah stood there with the stuffed dog in her hands. Ian really did care…damn that man! He caused her so many headaches. She walked down the hall into Viktor's room, knowing full well the man hated cell phones and only kept one because Ian wanted to make sure he could get in touch with them at any time. She prayed that he left his phone. Her prayers were answered and she picked up the phone that was on the corner of the desk. She dialed the number for the operator.

"Operator."

"Yes, can you connect me with a message delivery service in Boston?" Rylah asked.

"One moment." The phone rang three times before a man picked up.

"Paul Revere's Ride Messaging Service, how may I help you?" he asked jovially.

"Yes, I would like to put a message out to a Mr. Ian Howe…"

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed Blind Faith as much as I enjoyed writing it. Lemme know what you think (no flames please but CC welcomed and appreciated). Then you can head on over to See No Evil if it catches your fancy to do so. Until then, ciao!_


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